A Hamlet for a Slothful Vassal

Behold a jocund morn indeed! - Sun on high - birds in sky. Yonder the whist firth eathing, Fro where a gale erranteth. Ye beholdest but the shadow. That is a lie! Mayhap a tithe of trothplight - Lief I am not! I deem - e'er and anon! My words are but