Hither.
Whence piled in wait my four-poster doth lean,
sans bed-mate, toward expectation
but limbs stoked with flame soon loseth heat.
Sighs yielding to latent chill this Lady needeth
a kind Cavalier, unsworded and ardent,
her favours to take wherein appetite easeth.
By Belial I wouldst rather lie hence on dry hay
in yon barn than castled in lonely stone
chamber so I prithee mine Sire do make haste.
Stride a steed and draw hither to what be fate
lest this feverish state begin to cool
and wither the bliss with a frigid ice-maiden ?