III.
Envy of you was my life for a spell, Now all is well; Thunders were useless which did not crush you; Wicked I grew; Till she was mine, till I lived in the skies Kissing her eyes.
Envy of you was my life for a spell, Now all is well; Thunders were useless which did not crush you; Wicked I grew; Till she was mine, till I lived in the skies Kissing her eyes.