ABSTRACT
Ironheaded fool, who had you in his bed But chose a military life instead! Let him parade his troops of prisoners forth And pitch his tent on bloody captured earth. Hr armor's silver worked with gold, of course,
So let him preen in it astride his horse. For myself, let me yoke up my two Oxen and plow, so long as I'm with you. When we are intertwined in one embrace, Sweet sleep on the bare ground is no disgrace. Why toss on purple counterpanes, awake And weeping all night for a lost love's sake? Down comforters, rich bedspreads cannot bring Sleep, nor can soft water murmuring.
