I saw the forest and I saw the land;
I looked for marvels, but I could not find them.
– Wace

V

Sift, sift my love
and take a snatch of honey
in your mouth.

The bees come to suckle you,
husk upon little husk,
it is a mean breath they offer.

Shh, there are no flowers
bless the rain on summer bowers,
let me tear each leaf in three

to twine around my fingers;
bind and unbind to find an end,
this the art to which I am given.

Lullay, lullay my little liking
let me cradle you in this shroud
like a leveret in his coffin.