</>Heaven high shall I not promise thee,
Howbeit you will experience on hell
For thou shall suffer with me no necessity;
Though for your luxury, I never can tell.
So thine is, O Luscious Lady, my salary
And as you wish thou mayest expend it
Along with my royalties so dear but paltry.
Yea, my banker my account should debit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem