The Return Home, 77

The eunuchs controverted,
When I raised up my voice;
They grumbled and asserted
My singing was not choice.

And then they all raised sweetly
Their voicelets petty and shrill;
They sang so finely and neatly,
Like crystal sounded their trill.

They sang of love’s fierce yearning,
Of loving effusions and love,
To tears the ladies all turning,
With tunes so adapted to move.