Sun on high - birds in sky.
Yonder the whist eathing,
Fro where a gale erranteth."

"Ye beholdest but the shadow. -- "That is a lie!
Mayhap a tithe of trothplight - -- Lief I am not!
I deem - e'er and anon!" -- My words are but a twist.
-- 'Tis a feign?d lie through
-- loathing, I say!"
"To and fro, save hither,
Is thy love."
-- "A dotard gaffer, I daresay..."
"Not a loth! -
But vying for my kinsmen!"
-- "...a sapling not!"
"Beautiful tyrant!
Fiend angelical!
Dove-feathered raven!
Wolvish-ravening lamb!
A hamlet for a slothful vassal -
Soothing ale for a parch?d sot.
Hie to tell me
What ye judgest as naught;
I behold the shadow!"
-- "Wherefore call me such names;
-- Nay imp am I!
"E'er thou sayest aye! -- "That is a lie! -- Thou art my aghast hart -
Thief of a plot! -- Lief I am not! -- Grazing in the glade."
Now go to thy tryst -- My words are but a twist!
Go, leave, totter! - -- Fare well! - with joy I came,
Until ye dwindlest. -- With rue I leave.
A morsel, nay more, -- Even the orb cannot
For thy journey -- Help me melt the ice?!"
Hither an thither!"