IN Feverere, when that it was full colde,
Frofte, fnowe, haile, raine, hath dominacion,
With chaungable' elementes and windes manifolde,
Whiche hath of ground, floure, herbe, jurifdiccion
For to difpofe aftir their correccion,
And yet Aprilis with his plefaunt fhoures
Diffolveth the fnow and bringith forthe his floures, 7 Of whofe invencion lovirs maie be glade,
For thei bring in the kalendis of Maie,
And thei with countinaunce demure, meke, and fad, Owe to worship the luftie floures alwaie,
And in fpeciall one called fe of the daie,
The däifie, a flowir white and rede,
And in Frenche callid La bel Margarete.
O commendable floure, and mofte in minde!
O floure and gracious of excellence!
O amiable Marga'rite! of natife kind,
To whom I must refort with diligence,
With hert, wil, thought, moft lowly obedience,
I to be your fervaunt, ye my regent,
For life ne deth nevir for to repent.
Of this proceffe now forth will I procede,
Whiche happith unto me with grete disdain,
As for the time thereof I take left hede,
For unto me was brought the forè paine,
Therfore my caufe was the more to complaine,
Yet unto me my grevaunce was the leffe
That I was fo nigh my ladie' and maiftreffe.
There where she was present in this fame place,
I having in herte grete adverfite,
Except onely the fortune and gode grace
Of her whofe I am, the whiche releved me,
And my grete dures unlafid hath fhe,
And brought me out of the ferfull grevaunce,
If 'it were her efe it were to me plefaunce.
As for the wo whiche that I did endure
It was to me a verie plefaunt pain,
Seyng it was for that faire creäture
Whiche is my ladie and my fovèrain,
In whofe prefence I would be paffyng fain,
So that I wift it werin her plefure,
For fhe' is from all diftaunce my prote&our.
Though unto me dredfull ywere the chaunce,
No maner of gentilnes oweth me to blame,
For I' had le vir fuffre' of deth the penaunce
Than fhe fhould for me' have dishonor or fhame,
Or in any wife losin her gode name;
So wifely God for his endlesse mercie
Graunt every lovir joy of his lady!
O Mercifull and o merciable
Kyng of kyngis, and fathir of pite,
Whofe might and mercie is incomperable!
O prince eterne, o mightie Lorde! saie we,
To whom mercie is given of propirtie,
On thy fervaunt that lieth in prifon bounde
Have thou mercie or that his hertè wounde.
And that thou wilt graunt to him thy prisoner
Fre libertie, and lofe hym out of pain,
All his defires, and all his hevie chere
To all gladneffe thei were reftored again,
Thy high vengeance why should thou not refrain,
And fhewe mercie, fith he is penitent?
Now helpe hym Lorde, and let him not be fhent. 14
But fith it' is fo there is a trefpas done,
Unto Mercie let yelde the trespassour,
It is her office to redreffe it fone,
For Trefpaffe to Mercie is a mirrour,
And like as the fwete hath the price by foure,
So by Trefpaffe Mercie hath all her might,
Without Trefpaffe Mercie hath lacke of light.
What should phifike doe but if fikenes were?
What nedith faive but if there were a fore?
What nedith drink wher thirst hath no power?
What fhould Mercie doe but Trefpas go' afore?
But Trefpas Mercie woll be litil ftore,
Without Trefpas ner execufion
Maie Merdie have ne chief perfeccion.
The caufe at this time of my writyng,
And touchyng Mercie, to whom I make mone,
Is for fere left my fovereigne and fwetyng,
I menin her that lovelyir is none,
With me' is difplefed for caufis more than one;
What caufis thei be that knoweth God and fhe,
But fo do n'ot I; alas, it forthinketh me!
What fe fhe' in me, what defaute or offence?
What have I doe that fhe on me difdaine?
How might I doe come into her prefence,
To tell my complaint, whereof I were faine?
I drede to loke, to speke, or to complaine,
To her that hath my herte every dele;
So help me God I would al thing wer wele:
For in this cafe came I nevir or now
In Lov'is dauncè fo ferre in the trace,
For with myne efe escapin I ne mow
Out of this daungir, except her gode grace,
For though my countenaunce be mery' in her face, As femith to her by worde or by chere,
Yet her gode grace fettith myne hertè nere.
Why I to her now and afore ywrote,
She maie well thinke it is no grete travaile
To him that is in lovè brought fo hote;
It'is a fimple tre that falleth with one ftroke;
That mene I, though.that my foveraine toforn
Me hath denied yet grace may come to morn.
Maiftris, for the gode will I have you ought,
And evir fhall as long as life durith,
Pitie your fervant, kepe him in your thought,
Give' him fom comfort or medi'cin, and curith
His ague, that encrefith, that renuith:
So grevous ben his paines and fighis fore
That without mercy his dais be forlore.
Go, litil bill, go forth, and hie the fast,
Recommende me', and excufe me as you can,
For very feble am I at the laft,
My pen is woren, my hew is pale and wan,
My eyen ben fonke, disfigured like no man,
Till Deth his dart that caufith for to smert
My corps have confumed, then farwel fwet hert. 70
Doughtre' of Phoebus in vertuous apparence,
My love elect in my remembèraunce,
My carefull herte distreined cause of absence,
Till ye my' empreffe me relese my grevaunce,
Upon you 'is fet my life, myne attendaunce,
Is fette without recure I wis untill
Ye grauntin my true herte to have his will.
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