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O closit, gardiri, voide of wedis wicke;
Cristallin welle, of clerenesse clere configned,
Fructified olive of foiles faire and thicke,
And redo’lent cedre most dere worthy digoed!
Remember on finairs that to the be?affiped
Or wickid fendis ther wrathe on 'hem wreche;
Lanterne of light! thou art ther livis leche.
Paradise of plesunce, gladfome to all gode,
O benigne braunchilet of the pine tre,
Vinarie' envermailed, refreshir of bode,
Licour ayen langour that palled maie not be,
Blisful blomic blosme, bidyng in bounte!
Thy mantell of mercie on our miserie sprede,
And er we'awaie wrappe us undir thy wede.
O rodie roser, fouring without spine,'
Fountain filthleffe, as birill currant clere!
Sum drop of gracefull dewe to us propine;
Light without nebule shinyng in thy sphere,
Medecine to mischeves, pucell without pere!
Hanibe doun the fall light of thin influence,
Remembring thy servantes for thy magnificence. 56
Of all Christin protectrice and tutele,
Retourne of exiled put in the proferipcion,
To 'heni that erren in the' pathe of cher fequele,
To werie forwandrid tent and pavilion,
To faint and to freshe the pausaciori,
To unreslie bothe rest and remedie,
Frucafull to all tho that in her affie :
To 'hem that rendin thon art itinerarie,
o blisfull bravie to knightes of thy werre!
To werie werkmen she 'is diourne denarie,
Mede unto mariners that have failed ferre,
Laureate coroune ftremyng as a sterre,
To'hem put in palaftre for thy fake
Tours of ther conquest white as any lake. 70
O mirthe of martyrs! swetir than fitole,
Of confessours also riche donatife,
Unto virgines eternall lauriole,
'Fore all woman havyng prerogatife,
Mothir and maide, bothe widowe and eke wife!
Of all the worlde is none but thou alone,
Now fith thou maie be fuccour to my mone.
Truftie turtle, truefaftist of all true,
Curteise columbe, replete of all mekenesse,
O nightingale with thy notis newe!
O popinjaie ! purid with all clennesse,
O laveroke of love! fingyng with swetnesse,
Phæbus waityng till on thy brest he light,
Undir chy wing at domisdaie us dight.
O rubie! rubified in the passion
Of thy sonne, us have emongis in minde,
O stedfast diametre of duracion!
That fewe feris any time might thou finde,
For none to hym was foundin halfe so kinde;
O hardie heite! o lovyng creäture !
What was 'it but love that made the so endure? 91
Semely faphre, depe loupe, and blewe.ewage!
Stable as the loupe ewage of pitie, .
This is to faie, the freshift of visage,
Thou loveit unchaungid 'hem that servin the,
And if offence or variyng in 'hem be
Thou art aie rediс on ther wo to rue,
And 'hem recevilt aye with herte full true.
O godelie gladdid! when that Gabriel
With joy the grette, that niaie not be nombrid,
Or halfe the bliffe who coud ywrite or tell
When the' Holy Ghoste to the was obumbrid,
Wherthrough fendes were bittirly encombrid?
Owemlesse maide! embelished in his birthe,
'That man and angill therof haddin mirthe.
Lo here the blofme and the budde of glorie,
O whiche the prophet so long (pake beforre!
Lohere the fame that was in memorie
Of Efaie, so long or she was y borne!
Lo here of David the delicious corne!
Lo here the groundè of life in to bilde,
Becomyng man our ransome for to yilde! 11%
O glorious viole, vite in violate!
O firie Titan! perfyng with thy bemes,
Whose vertuous brightnes was in brest vibrat,
That al the world embelifhed with the lemes,
Conservatrice of kingis, dukes, and relmes,
Of Jesse his sede the swete Sunamite *,
Mesure my mourning mine own Margarite!
119 * Perhaps Cinnamite or Cinnamçmitç.
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 ftainid, Flece undefouled of gentilift Gidion, And fruidfiyng fairilt yerde of Aaron! 126
The mightie arche, the probacife piscine, Laughyng Aurora, and of pece olive, Columpne and base, up beryng from abime, Why n'ere I connyng here for to discrive? Chosin of Joseph, 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 religne
Into thyne hande till that thou list succour,
To helpe my'makyng both florishe and four,
Then should I shewe in love how that I brende,
In fongis makyng thy name to commende: 140
For if I coud before thyne excellence -
Syngin in love I wouldin what I fele,
And evir standin, ladie', I in thy presence,
To Thewe in opin how I love you wele,
And fith although your hert be made of fele
To you withoutin any difcev'eraunce
Fay en vous toute ma 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 passe out of my dayis olde,
Tofore fyngyng evirmore uttirly,
Your eyin two woll fle me sodainly.
For love I langour, blissed be foch ficknesse !
Sich it ’is for you, my hertely fuffifaunce,
I can not ellis faie in my distresse,
So faire one hath myne hert in govirnaunce,
And aftir I begin on esperaunce,
With feble entune, though it thine hert perce,
Y er for thy fake this lettir I reherse.
God wote on musike I can 'not, but I gefse;
A las why so that I might faie or syng,
So love I you, my own foveraine maistresse,
And evir shall withoutin departyng,
Mirrour of beautie, for you' out fuld I ring,
I remembraunce eke of your eyin clere,
Thus ferre from you my soverain ladie dere!
So wouldin God your love would me ysio,
Sith for your sake I fingin daie by daie;
o hertè! why ne nilt thou breke a two,
Sith with my ladie dwellin I pe maie?
Thus many'a roundell, many'a virèlaie,
in freshe Englishe, when I me leilir fode,
I doe recorde, on you to havin mynde.