Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/173

Rh No longer hath she cause to fear

Lest rude marauders come anear

Roses or rosebuds, they repose

Safely within that high-built close.

Or fast asleep or wide awake

She, undisturbed, full rest may take.

Alas! what wretched fate is mine,

Outside that envious wall to pine,

All desolate and in misery.

What heart but must bestow on me

Some pity, did it wot the price

At which I offer sacrifice

To Love. My wound but bleeds afresh,

And caught anew within the mesh

Of Cupid am I. Short delight

Was mine, and now a darker night

O’erclouds my heart.

What think ye then,

Am I not like to husbandmen

Who cast the seed to earth, and see

With joy how springeth sturdily

In spring-tide’s days, and through the hours

Of summer, fed by sun and showers,

The stalk, and flourisheth the ear?

But ere the season comes to shear

The ripening grain, the hail descends,

Destroys the tender growth, and ends

The peasant’s fairest hope. So I,

Alas! must see my hope pass by,

And all my patience lost. But Love,

(Who helped my gentle suit above