Brother, he said he was so gravely ill And needed my hand’s broth to revive him; That prepared, he said what he needed still Was that I should avail myself and lie with him. A thousand pleas to him I petitioned, Eyes of fire shedding tears of liquid steel. “You are the broth that I crave”, he mentioned, “Let me feed on you and see how fast love heals.” A virgin, the only title I held Would be dissolved the moment he had me;