Chastelard monologue (Act 3) — Chastelard, a Tragedy

Have you read never in French books the song Called the Duke's Song, some boy made ages back, A song of drag-nets hauled across thwart seas And plucked up with rent sides, and caught therein A strange-haired woman with sad singing lips, Cold in the cheek like any stray of sea, And sweet to touch? so that men seeing her face, And how she sighed out little Ahs of pain And soft cries sobbing sideways from her mouth, Fell in hot love, and having lain with her Died soon? one time I could have told it through: Now I have kissed the sea-witch on her eyes And my lips ache with it; but I shall sleep Full soon, and a good space of sleep.