Hollow-Hearted, Heart-Departed

"Filthy harlots - the Lord's grape!
With lore ornamented entreating
Hollow-hearted, heart-departed
Yet thou reapest the blooming rose
When 'tis the weed which is to be swath'd"

"And me in the yesterday bind?!"

"Hah! - for thee even a hound holdeth the throne
Unwanted child of mother! - Plague of plagues!
Father of leprous children
I wield ye to stint this brawl!
Night is the ford - yet harken! - do not thwart!
Desirest thou to do it withal
I shall cause thy body by one head too short!
Sayest ye nay to my boon
Then wilt thou from bloodsheld swoon!"

"Err me not! - Must ye bethink my foolhardiness!
Be vanished! - Be hanished!
If ye deemest me not wroth
My hand hieth to unsheathe the sword
Lest thou dost totter
Whid along! - Wherefore irk my haughtiness?"

"No man... No man at all!
Be it lord of beggar
Bereaveth my dignity!"

"Loom my darling sun
Bear the scarlet colour!"

"Wherefore bereave
The kine of the sward?
Wherefore holdest thou for
Me such a quailing scowl?"

"I do, in the blooming flower, pleasure find!"

"Innocence is reserved for the meek
Of naught is my grasp ne'er to be!"