She at the very last spoke to me-- Her soft speech was soothing as balm-- Whom I've desired much the first to be; Yet my soul was firm and calm.
And peace like a river flowed In my heart like never before, And my love straightaway followed Hers like a sheep to the abattoir.
She howbeit will not slaughter me. If she did it would be with her love. So let me die by the dirk of that dilly Rather than stay alive with a frigid dove.