English poem
Ii. Saturn
From my farm, from hèr farm Furtively we came. In either home a hearth was warm: We nursed a hungrier flame.
Our feet were foul with mire, Our faces blind with mist; But all the night was naked fire About us where we kiss'd.
To her farm, to my farm, Loathing we returned; Pale beneath a gallow's arm The planet Saturn burned.