Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/290

256 The yoke of Love, and ever be

A slave ’neath his sweet mastery.

If I am mad, regard me not,

To Love I’m vowed, whate’er my lot,

And to the Rose have given troth-plight:

If wrong, ’tis wrong; if right, ’tis right.

If now my love I gave to you,

Alas! I then must prove untrue

To my sweet Rose, and can but be

A traitor either unto thee

Or Love, my master. But I’ve said

Already, that my heart is dead

To all except the Rose, and when

With tiresome talk you press me, then

I feel outwearied; I shall fly

Your presence if persistently

You talk against my love, for she

Is more than all the world to me.”