ee punye…

Love me little, love me long, is the burden of my song.
Love that is too hot and strong, burning soon to waste.
Still, I would not have you cold, not too backward, nor too bold;
Love that lasting till ’tis old, fading not in haste.
Love me little, love me long, is the burden of my song.

If you loving me too much, it will not prove as true as touch.
Love me little, more than such, for I fear the end.
I am with little well content, and a little from what you sent is enough, with true intent to be steadfast friend.
Love me little, love me long, is the burden of my song.

Say you’ll love me while you live;
I to you my love will give, never dreaming to deceive
Whiles that life endures.
No, and after death, in sooth,
I to you will keep my truth.
As now, when in my may of youth.
This my love assures.
Love me little, love me long,
Is the burden of my song.

Constant love is moderate ever, and it will through life persevere;
Give me that, with true endeavor
I will it restore.
A suit of durance let it be, for all weathers that for me.
For the land or for the sea, lasting evermore.
Love me little, love me long, is the burden of my song.

Winter’s cold, or summer’s heat, autumn’s tempests on it beat. It can never know defeat, never can rebel.
Such the love that I would gain, such the love, I tell you plain.
You must give, or woo in vain;
So to you, farewell!
Love me little, love me long, is the burden of my song.