Ditties the Minstrels fashioned in that fearsome Night these only are preserved for the Admiration of the Age.

I

Our lady lies on a brave high bed, On pillows of gold with gold baboons On red silk deftly embroidered—       O anger and eggs and candlelight—       Her gold-specked eyes have little sight.

 Our lady cries on a brave high bed; The golden light of the candles licks The crown of gold on her frizzly head—       O candles and angry eggs so white—       Her gold-specked eyes are sharp with fright.

Our lady sighs till the high bed creaks; The golden candles gutter and sway In the swirling dark the dark priest speaks—       O his eyes are white as eggs with fright       —Our lady will die twixt night and night.

 Our lady lies on a brave high bed; The golden crown has slipped from her head On the pillows crimson embroidered—       O baboons writhing in candlelight—       Her gold-specked soul has taken flight.

II ZABAGLIONE 

Champagne-colored Deepening to tawniness As the throats of nightingales Strangled for Nero's supper.

 Champagne-colored Like the coverlet of Dudloysha At the Hotel Continental.

Thick to the lips and velvety Scented of rum and vanilla Oversweet, oversoft, overstrong, Full of froth of fascination, Drink to be drunk of Isoldes Sunk in champagne-colored couches While Tristans with fair flowing hair And round cheeks rosy as cherubs Stand and stretch their arms, And let their great slow tears Roll and fall, And splash in the huge gold cups.

 And behind the scenes with his sleeves rolled up, Grandiloquently Kurwenal beats the eggs Into spuming symphonic splendor Champagne-colored.

 Red-nosed gnomes roll and tumble Tussle and jumble in the firelight Roll on their backs spinning rotundly, Out of earthern jars Gloriously gurgitating, Wriggling their huge round bellies.

And the air of the cave is heavy With steaming Marsala and rum And hot bruised vanilla.

Champagne-colored, one lies in a velvetiness Of yellow moths stirring faintly 

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