Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/275

Rh

And thou, who joy’dst to kiss the Rose,

Through which to thee such misery grows

As seems would never more abate,

Dost thou desire it for thy fate

Ever to live in soft delight

Kissing fair roses, day and night?

Now swear I stoutly by my head,

Good sense within thee seemeth dead.

Lest thou beneath thy sorrow sink,

I counsel thee to muse and think

Of Manfred and of Conradin

And Henry, who, than Saladin,

Did deadlier crimes, since war they made

’Gainst Holy Church their nurse, who laid

Her curse on them, and mark how died

Those of Marseilles through fatal pride.

With ancient lore too well acquaint

Art thou that I again need paint

Vile Nero’s crime, or Crœsus’ fall,

Such lessons might’st thou well recall,

Showing how vain their power to stay

The turn of Fortune’s wheel one day.

I’faith! the freeman who in pride

Of freedom scorneth all beside,

Forgets how mighty Crœsus fell

From freedom’s heaven to serfdom’s hell,

And in his memory holds he not

Sad Hecuba’s unhappy lot,

The wife of Priam, nor the fate

Of Sisygambis, who the great

Darius, king of Persia, bore,

Yet Alexander fell before;