Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/36

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’Twas in my twentieth year of age,

When Love doth all young hearts engage

To pay him toll, that on my bed

I lay one night, as custom led.

Asleep, when o’er my spirit fell

A wondrous pleasant dream that well

Delighted me, and nought therein

I saw but what did later win

Fulfilment, and I now in rhyme

Set forth the tale, to while your time

And glad young hearts, by Love’s command.

And should or swain or maid demand

How that is called which now I write,

I answer “The Romance” it hight,

For lovers written, “of the Rose,”

Which doth Love’s gentle art enclose.

Good is the matter, fair and true,

God grant that grace it find in view

Of her for whose behoof ’twas writ;

Worthy of love is she, and fit,

Before all other maids I swear.

The fragrant name of Rose to bear.

Five years have rolled their suns away.

Since in the amorous month of May

I dreamed this dream: O month of joy

That knows all nature to decoy

To mirth and pleasure; bush and brake

Alike their fresh spring raiment take

Of leaves that long in swaddlings lay

Close shrouded from the light of day.

While woods and thickets don their green

Rich mantling of resplendent sheen.