|
|
The long love
that in my thought doth harbour, And in mine heart
doth keep his residence, Into my face presseth with
bold pretence, And therein campeth, spreading his
banner. She that me learneth to love and suffer,
And wills that my trust and lust's negligence Be
reined by reason, shame, and reverence, With his
hardiness taketh displeasure. Wherewithal, unto the
heart's forest he fleeth, Leaving his enterprise
with pain and cry; And there him hideth, and not
appeareth. What may I do when my master feareth
But in the field with him to live or die? For good
is the life ending faithfully.
|
|
|