Let not, the hot
temper that you’ve got,
my patience deficit.
We’re friends, of the kindred kind,
I only wish, your joy to mind.
Quarrels exist not, in me to bind.
State your case, keep your pace,
worry not over my face…for
loyalty e’er in me, shall you find,
and should empty, your quiver you detect, my Dova,
know that you will have
my respect and Lova.