巴德尼看著奧克茲紅著臉將手中的羊皮紙遞了過來,那是一首詩,準確的來說——是一首情詩—— “Thy beauteous eyen, min lord, that glemen bright, Of golden darte, Love springs; of leden, Hate. Whan first thi sighte did meete my soule's estate, I knew that hour al worldes joye and al delite.
Eros golden shaft, a firy, percing light, Did streighte through brest and soule min herte smyte; For that same blinke, al gladnesse was so swete, When thou dost walk beneath the moonlit sky.
And faire, and pure, and evermore to be, Min humble soule, so small by grace of thee, For mortal time, gainst thine, no thing may meete; Though in thin hond that darte be of the leed,
Yet will I gaze, ne turne away my sighte, And make of this a verse, to cherishe it for aye.