THE LOVER BESEECHETH HIS MISTRESS NOT
TO FORGET HIS STEADFAST FAITH AND TRUE INTENT.
FORGET not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
My great travail so gladly spent,
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet when first began
The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service none tell can;
Forget not yet!
Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in delays,
Forget not yet!
Forget not! oh! forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is
The mind that never meant amiss
Forget not yet!
Forget not then thine own approv'd,
The which so long hath thee so lov'd,
Whose steadfast faith yet never mov'd:
Forget not this!
HE BEWAILS THE PAIN HE ENDURES WHEN BANISHED FROM THE MISTRESS OF HIS HEART.
O! MISERABLE sorrow, withouten cure!
If it please thee, lo! to have me thus suffer,
At least yet let her know what I endure,
And this my last voice carry thou thither,
Where lived my hope, now dead for ever:
For as ill grievous is my banishment,
As was my pleasure when she was present.
HE COMPARES HIS SUFFERINGS TO THOSE OF TANTALUS.
THE fruit of all the service that I serve
Despair doth reap; such hapless hap have I.
But though he have no power to make me swerve,
Yet by the fire for cold I feel I die.
In paradise for hunger still I sterve,
And in the flood for thirst to death I dry;
So Tantalus am I, and in worse pain,
Amidst my help that helpless doth remain.
THAT NOTHING MAY ASSUAGE HIS PAIN SAVE ONLY HIS LADY'S FAVOUR.
Ir with complaint the pain might be express'd
That inwardly doth cause me sigh and groan;
Your hard heart, and your cruel breast
Should sigh and plain for my unrest;
And though it were of stone,
Yet should remorse cause it relent and moan.
But since it is so far out of measure,
That with my words I can it not contain,
My only trust! my heart's treasure!
Alas! why do I still endure
This restless smart and pain?
YE know my heart, my Lady dear!
That since the time I was your thrall
I have been yours both whole and clear,
Though my reward hath been but small;
So am I yet, and more than all.
ye know well how I have serv'd,
How well, how long,
How faithfully!
And suffered wrong,
How patiently!
Then since that I have never swerv'd,
Let not my pains be undeserv'd.
Ye know also, though ye say nay,
That you alone are my desire;
And you alone it is that may
Assuage my fervent flaming fire.
Succour me then I
you require!
Ye know it were a just request,
If that I burn,
It will ye warm,
And not to turn,
All to my harm,
Lending such flame from frozen breast
Against nature for my unrest.
And I know well how scornfully
Ye have mista'en my true intent;
And hitherto how wrongfully,
I have found cause for to repent.
But if your heart doth not relent,
Since I do know that this
Ye shall slay me all wilfully.
For me, and mine,
And all I have,
VOL. II.
Ye may assign,
To spill or save.
Why are ye then so cruel foe
Unto your own, that loves you so?
HE DESCRIBETH THE CEASELESS TORMENTS
you will needs that I shall sing,
Take it in worth such as I have;
Plenty of plaint, moan, and mourning,
In deep despair and deadly pain.
Bootless for boot, crying to crave;
To crave in vain.
Such hammers work within my head
That sound nought else unto my ears,
But fast at board, and wake a-bed:
Such tune the temper to my song
To wail my wrong, that I want tears
To wail my wrong.
Death and despair afore my face,
My days decay, my grief doth grow;
The cause thereof is in this place,
Whom cruelty doth still constrain
For to rejoice, though I be woe,
To hear me plain.
A broken lute, untuned strings,
With such a song may well bear part,
That neither pleaseth him that sings,
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