| I |
| The longe nightes, whan every creature |
| Shulde have hir rest in somwhat as by kynde, |
| Or elles ne may hir lif nat longe endure, |
| Hit falleth most into my woful mynde |
| 5 | How I so fer have broght myself behynde |
| That, sauf the deeth, ther may nothyng me lisse, |
| So desespaired I am from alle blisse. |
| |
| This same thoght me lasteth til the morwe |
| And from the morwe forth til hit be eve; |
| 10 | Ther nedeth me no care for to borwe, |
| For bothe I have good leyser and good leve; |
| Ther is no wyght that wol me wo bereve |
| To wepe ynogh and wailen al my fille; |
| The sore spark of peyne now doth me spille. |
| |
| II |
| 15 | This Love, that hath me set in such a place |
| That my desir [he] nevere wol fulfille, |
| For neither pitee, mercy, neither grace |
| Can I nat fynde, and yit my sorwful herte |
| For to be deed I can hit nought arace. |
| 20 | The more I love, the more she doth me smerte, |
| Thourgh which I see withoute remedye |
| That from the deeth I may no wyse asterte. |
| |
| III |
| Now sothly what she hight I wol reherse: |
| |
| Hir name is Bountee set in womanhede, |
| 25 | Sadnesse in youthe and Beautee prydelees |
| And Plesaunce under governaunce and drede; |
| Hir surname is eek Faire Rewthelees |
| The Wyse, yknit unto Good Aventure, |
| That, for I love hir, she sleeth me giltelees. |
| |
| 30 | Hir love I best, and shal, whyl I may dure, |
| Bet than myself an hundred thousand deel, |
| Than al this worldes richesse or creature. |
| Now hath not Love me bestowed weel |
| To love ther I never shal have part? |
| 35 | Allas, right thus is turned me the wheel, |
| Thus am I slayn with Loves fyry dart! |
| I can but love hir best, my swete fo; |
| Love hath me taught no more of his art |
| But serve alwey and stinte for no wo. |
| |
| IV |
| 40 | In my trewe [and] careful herte ther is |
| So moche wo and [eek] so litel blis |
| That wo is me that ever I was bore; |
| For al that thyng which I desyre I mis |
| And al that ever I wolde not ywis, |
| 45 | That finde I redy to me evermore; |
| And of al this I not to whom me pleyne. |
| For she that mighte me out of this brynge |
| Ne reccheth nought whether I wepe or synge, |
| So litel rewthe hath she upon my peyne. |
| |
| 50 | Allas! Whan slepyng-tyme is than I wake, |
| Whan I shulde daunce, for fere, lo, than I quake. |
| This hevy lif I lede, lo, for your sake |
| Thogh ye therof in no wyse hede take, |
| Myn hertes lady and hool my lyves quene. |
| 55 | For trewly durste I seye as that I fele, |
| Me semeth that your swete herte of stele |
| Is whetted now ageynes me to kene. |
| |
| My dere herte and best beloved fo, |
| Why lyketh yow to do me al this wo? |
| 60 | What have I doon that greveth yow or sayd, |
| But for I serve and love yow and no mo? |
| And while I lyve I wol ever do so, |
| And therfor, swete, ne beth nat yvel apayd. |
| For so good and so fair as ye be |
| 65 | Hit were right gret wonder but ye hadde |
| Of alle servantes, bothe of goode and badde; |
| And leest worthy of alle hem, I am he. |
| |
| But nevertheles, my righte lady swete, |
| Thogh that I be unconnyng and unmete |
| 70 | To serve, as I coude best, ay your hynesse, |
| Yit is ther noon fayner, that wolde I hete, |
| Than I, to do yow ese, or elles bete |
| What so I wiste that were to youre hevynesse; |
| And hadde I myght as good as I have wille, |
| 75 | Than shulde ye fele wher it were so or noon; |
| For in this world livyng than is ther noon |
| That fayner wolde your hertes wil fulfille. |
| |
| For bothe I love and eek drede yow so sore, |
| And algates moot, and have doon yow, ful yore, |
| 80 | That bettre loved is noon ne never shal; |
| And yit I wolde beseche yow of no more, |
| But leveth wel and be not wrooth therfore, |
| And lat me serve yow forth; lo, this is al. |
| For I am not so hardy ne so wood, |
| 85 | For to desire that ye shulde love me, |
| For wel I wot -- allas -- that wil nat be; |
| I am so litel worthy and ye so good. |
| |
| For ye be oon the worthiest on-lyve |
| And I the most unlykly for to thryve, |
| 90 | Yit for al this, witeth ye right wele |
| That ye ne shul me from your servyce dryve |
| That I ne wil ay, with alle my wittes fyve, |
| Serve yow trewly, what wo so that I fele. |
| For I am set on yow in such manere |
| 95 | That, thogh ye never wil upon me rewe, |
| I moste yow love and been ever as trewe |
| As any man can, or may, on-lyve [here]. |
| |
| But the more that I love yow, goodly free, |
| The lasse fynde I that ye loven me; |
| 100 | Allas, whan shal that harde wit amende? |
| Wher is now al your wommanly pitee, |
| Your gentilesse and your debonairtee? |
| Wil ye nothyng therof upon me spende? |
| And so hool, swete, as I am youres al, |
| 105 | And so gret wil as I have yow to serve, |
| Now certes, and ye lete me thus sterve, |
| Yit have ye wonne theron but a smal. |
| |
| For at my knowyng I do nought why, |
| And this I wol beseche yow hertely, |
| 110 | That ther ever ye fynde, whyles ye lyve, |
| A trewer servant to yow than am I, |
| Leveth thanne and sleeth me hardely, |
| And I my deeth to yow wol al foryive. |
| And if ye fynde no trewer verrayly, |
| 115 | Wil ye suffre than that I thus spille |
| And for no maner gilt but my good wille? |
| As good were thanne untrewe as trewe to be. |
| |
| But I, my lyf and deeth, to yow obeye |
| And with right buxom herte hooly I preye |
| 120 | As is your moste plesure, so doth by me; |
| Wel lever is me liken yow and deye |
| Than for to anythyng or thynke or seye |
| That yow myghte offende in any tyme. |
| And therfor, swete, rewe on my peynes smerte, |
| 125 | And of your grace graunteth me som drope, |
| For elles may me laste no blis ne hope, |
| Ne dwelle within my trouble careful herte. |