My lover has accuséd me 
   of pawning off my charms,
of offering sweet dalliances
   as trade for open arms!
Perhaps a richer man than I
   could purchase such a prize,
but I am far too dignified 
   to haggle for her eyes.
For love is not a marketplace,
   no shop for selling wares:
'tis but a humble pallet for
   arranging one's affairs.
And lacking so in avarice
   as she knows me to be,
I find it not improvident: 
   for her my love is free!