Amelette Ronsardelette,
Mignonnelette, doucelette,
Tres-chere hostesse de mon corps,
Tu descens là bas foiblelette,
Pasle, maigrelette, seulette,
Dans le froid royaume des mors;
Toutefois simple, sans remors,
De meurtre, poison, et rancune,
Mesprisant faveurs et tresors
Tant enviez par la commune.
Passant, j'ai dit: suy ta fortune,
Ne trouble mon repos: je dors.

                                              Pierre de Ronsard (1524-1585)

         ENVOY: To His Soul

Little soul of Ronsard,
Dear, sweet,
Cherished hostess of my body,
You descend here below so weak,
Pale, meager, alone,
Into the cold realm of the dead;
Yet so simple, without remorse
Of murder, poison, and rancour,
Scorning favour and riches
Such as are desired by most.
As you passed, I said: follow your fortune,
Disturb not my repose: I sleep.

                                            (English translation by William Hawley)