  I sang two little songs one day, I sang them for a lady’s pleasure, I took her praise for wreath of bay, Her smile for largess beyond measure. I sang out in the market square And most folk could not understand; One who by chance was passing there Dropped down some silver in my hand. Now since the songs I gave you, Sweet, Have turned to silver fair and gleaming, For your pleasaunce as is most meet The silver turns to song and dreaming. |
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