O what falsehood lies in kisses! In mere show what joy’s convey’d! In betrayal, O what bliss is! Sweeter still to be betray’d! Though thou mayst resist me, fairest, Yet I know what thou allowest; I’ll avow whate’er thou swearest, I will swear what thou avowest. 74. Upon thy snowy bosom My head all-softly I lay, And secretly can listen To what thy heart doth say. The blue hussars are blowing, And riding in at the gate; To-morrow my heart-beloved one Will surely desert me straight. If thou wilt desert me to-morrow, At least to-day thou art mine, And in thine arms so beauteous With twofold bliss I’ll recline. 75. The blue hussars are blowing, And riding out at the gate; I come then, my loved one, and bring thee A nosegay of roses straight. Those were indeed wild doings, Much folk and warlike display! By far too many were quarter’d Within thy bosom that day. 76. I in youthful years did languish, Suffer’d many a bitter anguish From love’s fiery glow. Wood is now so dear, the fire Will for lack of fuel expire-- _Ma foi!_ ’tis better so. Think of this, O youthful fair one! Chase away the tears that wear one, And all foolish love’s alarms; If thy life may not have perish’d, O forget thy love once cherish’d-- _Ma foi!_ within my arms. 77. The eunuchs controverted, When I raised up my voice; They grumbled and asserted My singing was not choice. And then they all raised sweetly Their voicelets petty and shrill; They sang so finely and neatly, Like crystal sounded their trill. They sang of love’s fierce yearning, Of loving effusions and love, To tears the ladies all turning, With tunes so adapted to move. 78. I left you at first in July at the warmest, In January now I find you once more; In the midst of the heat you then were complaining, And now you are cool’d, and cold to the core. I shall soon leave again, and when next I’m returning Neither warm shall I find you, nor yet quite cold; I shall walk o’er your grave with silent composure, While my own heart within me is wretched and old. 79. Art thou then indeed so hostile, Art thou tow’rds me changed so sadly? I by all means shall lament it, Thou hast treated me so badly. O ungrateful lips, how could ye Speak with malice cruel-hearted Of the man who ofttimes kiss’d you Lovingly, in days departed? 80. Ah! once more the eyes are on me, Which did greet me once with gladness, And the lips once more address me, Which once sweeten’d life’s long sadness. E’en the voice I hear, whose accents Charm’d me, as they sweetly falter’d; I alone am not the same one, Having home return’d, all-alter’d.