Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/39

 And but your word wol helen hastily My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene, Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly, I may the beautè of hem not sustene.

Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully, That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene; For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene. Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly, I may the beautè of hem not sustene, So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene.

2. REJECTION

So hath your beautè fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

Giltles my deeth thus han ye me purchaced; I sey yow sooth, me nedeth not to feyne; So hath your beautè fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne.

Allas! that nature hath in yow compassed So greet beautè, that no man may atteyne To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne. So hath your beautè fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.

3. ESCAPE

Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene; Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.

halt] holdeth.