Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/167

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The Rose, my every member shakes

With rage, and all my being quakes

With longing once again to see

That treasure which is more to me

Than life—sweet end of all desire.

The memory of that one kiss doth fire

My blood, and sweeter far than balm

Its odours are, which sent a calm

Sweet swoon o’er all my heart, that knows

Peace only when ’tis near the Rose.

If e’er should fall on me the fate

To be cast out, all desolate,

Therefrom, much rather would I die

Than live in such drear misery.

O God of Love, what boots it then

That I, most love-lorn among men,

Should have enjoyed that dear delight,

With loving lips, with ardent sight,

When thus from me ’tis reft amain

With ruthless hand, no more to fain

My longing heart?

I then were doomed

To be with wretchedness consumed

E’en as aforetime—torn with woes,

Tortured with sighs and bitter throes,

And sleepless nights, and such a hell

Of pain as passeth words to tell.

Accursed be Evil-Tongue, through whom

I fall once more beneath the doom

Of hopeless love, the wretch for me

Hath purchased endless misery.