Semely faphre, depe loupe, and blewe.ewage! Stable as the loupe ewage of pitie,
This is to faie, the freshift of visage,
Thou lovest unchaungid 'hem that servin the, And if offence or variyng in 'hem be Thou art aie redie on ther wo to rue, And 'hem recevift aye with herte full true. O godelie gladdid! when that Gabriel With joy the grette, that maie not be nombrid, Or halfe the bliffe who coud ywrite or tell When the' Holy Ghofte to the was obumbrid, Wherthrough fendes were bittirly encombrid? O wemleffe maide! embelished in his birthe, That man and angill therof haddin mirthe.
Lo here the blofme and the budde of glorie,
Of whiche the prophet fo long (pake beforne! Lo here the fame that was in memorie Of Efaie, fo long or fhe was yborne! Lo here of David the delicious corne! Lo here the groundè of life in to bilde, Becomyng man our ransome for to yilde! O glorious viole, vite inviolate!
O firie Titan! perfyng with thy bemes, Whofe vertuous brightnes was in brest vibrat, That al the world embelished with the lemes, Confervatrice of kingis, dukes, and relmes, Of Jeffe his fede the fwete Sunamite *, Mefure my mourning mine own Margarite!
Perhaps Cinnamite or Cinnamomite.
O foverainift yfought out of Syon! Cockle with gold-dewe from above berainid, Dewe-bushe unbrent, firèleffe fire set on, Flambing with fervence, not with hete painid, Duryng daisie that no wethir stainid,
Flece undefouled of gentilift Gidion, And fruictfiyng fairist yerde of Aaron!
The mightie arche, the probatife piscine, Laughyng Aurora, and of pece olive, Columpne and base, up beryng from abime, Why n'ere I connyng here for to difcrive? Chofin of Jofeph, whom he toke to wive, Unknowyng hym childyng by miracle, And of our manly figure the tabernacle!
I have none Englishe convenient and digne, Myne herte's hele lady! the with to honour, Ivorie clene! therefore I woll refigne Into thyne hande till that thou list succour, To helpe my makyng both florishe and flour, Then fhould I fhewe in love how that I brende, In fongis makyng thy name to commende:
For if I coud before thyne excellence Syngin in love I wouldin what I fele, And evir standin, ladie', I in thy presence, To fhewe in opin how I love you wele, And fith although your hert be made of ftele To you withoutin any difcev'eraunce
Fay en vous toute ma a fiance.
Where might I love evir bettir beset
Then in this lilie likyng to beholde,
That lace of love, the bonde so well thou knit,
That I maie se the or myne hertè colde,
And or I paffe out of my dayis olde, Tofore fyngyng evirmore uttirly, Your eyin two woll fle me sodainly.
For love I langour, bliffed be foch fickneffe!
Sith it 'is for you, my hertely fuffifaunce,
I can not ellis faie in my diftreffe,
So faire one hath myne hert in govirnaunce, And aftir I begin on efperaunce,
With feble entune, though it thine hert perce, Yet for thy fake this lettir I reherse.
God wote on musike I can 'not, but I geffe; Alas why fo! that I might faie or fyng, So love I you, my own foveraine maiftreffe, And evir fhall withoutin departyng, Mirrour of beautie, for you' out fhuld I ring, In remembraunce eke of your eyin clere, Thus ferre from you my foverain ladie dere!
So wouldin God your love would me yfio, Sith for your fake I fingin daie by daie; O hertè! why ne nilt thou breke a two, Sith with my ladie dwellin I ne maie? Thus many' a roundell, many' a virèlaie, In freshe Englishe, when I me leifir finde, I doe recorde, on you to havin mynde.
Now, ladie mine! fith I you love and drede, And you' unchaunged evir finde in o degre, Whofe grace ne maie flie fro your womanhede, Difdainith not for to remembre' on me, Myne herte bledith for I maie not you sez And fith ye wotte my menyng defirous Pleures pour moy s'il vous plaift amoreux. What marveile is though I in pain ybe? I'am departid from you my fovèrain; Fortune alas! dont vient la deftenie, That in no wife I can ne maie attain To fe the beautie of your eyin twain, Wherefore I faie, for trifteffe doeth me grame, Tant me fait mal departir de ma dame"
Why n'ere my wiffing brought to foche efploit That I might faie for joye of your presence Or amon cœur ce qui vouloit
Or amon cœur ? the highift excellence
That er had wight, and fith mine advertence: Is in you rewith on my painis fmerte,
I am fo fore ywoundid to the herte.
To'live well merie two lovirs were ifere,"
So maie I faie withoutin any blame, And if that any man to wilde were
I coud hym techin for to be full tame, Let hym go love and fe where it be game, For I am bridlid unto fobirneffe
For her that is of women chief princeffe.
But evir when thought my hert fhuld enbrace, Then unto me it is best remedie..
When I loke on your godely freshè face, So merie a mirrour coud I ner efpie, And if I coud I would it magnifie, For nevir none ywas fo faire yfounde, To reken 'hem all, and also Rosamounde.
And finally, with mouthe and will present, Of double eye withoutin repentaunce, Mine hert I yeve you, ladie', in this entent, That ye fhall therof have the govirnaunce, Takyng my leve with hert'is obeifaunce, (Salve Regina) fynging last of all
To be our helpe when that we to the call. All our love is nought els but idleneffe, Save your love alone, who might therto' attain; Who fo woll have a name of gentilleffe I counfaile hym in love that he not fain; Thou fwete ladie! refute in every pain, Whofe mercie mofte unto me availith, To gie by grace when that Fortune failith. Nought maie be told, withoutin any fable, Your high renome, you womanly beaute, Your govirnaunce, to all worship able, Futteth every herte in ese in his degre; O violet! o flowir defirè!
Sithin I am for you so amerous Fftreignes moy de cœur joyeux.
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