Are favoring ladies above thee?
  Are there dowries and lands? Do they say
Seven others are fair? But I love thee:
          Aultre n’auray!

All the sea is a lawn in our country;
  All the morrow, our star of delay.
I am King: let me live on thy...

Anonymous translation from the French
THE BIER descends, the spotless roses too,
  The father’s tribute in his saddest hour:
O Earth! that bore them both, thou hast thy due,—
        The fair young girl and flower.

Give them not back unto a world again,...