by Tenebris

Created on: June 30, 2008

All through the gentle seasons is the word
Lightly given, lightly said, lightly kept,
Lightly play'd, loosely hung on those bestirr'd
For to frolic, in courtesy yclept;
One word, another, flow'ry phrases gird
Round the painted Maypole, a dance well stepp'd.
Sudden the change, while honour's champion slept -
Hark the indenture honour's masque incurr'd!
Of what use an oath when the first storm does it quell?
What then remains of honour but a hollow shell?

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