said: 'What did he promise you?' I replied: 'Twenty-five

Grandmothers guarding trundle-beds:

The dew, the rain and moonlight

The dew, the rain and moonlight

Have grass to snare the spheres of dew,

And fields spread for the grain.

Yea, we would give to each poor man

[Written to the Most Beautiful Woman in the World]

My Sweetheart is the TRUTH BEYOND THE MOON,