Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/96

62

Another bolt of beauty rare,

Gold wrought and winged with plumage fair:

Ah! well might I then fear my fate,

For scalded man doth water hate,

Though but lukewarm or cold it be.

Franchise or Generosity

This shaft was named; yet nought dismayed

Would be though arrows round me played,

And swords and stones were showered pell-mell.

One word alone my tongue could spell:

“Give me my rose.”

Almighty Love,

Whose influence reigneth far above

All else, to me such courage gave

As dared his worst assault to brave.

Wounded and weak I gained my feet

And staggered on, prepared to meet

The archer, towards that rose-grown brake,

But found strong spines and thistles make

A barrier none could pass. Ah! vain

All efforts proved the prize to gain.

Yet near the hedge I stood, and might

Freely enjoy the gladsome sight

Of those sweet roses hedged by thorns,

Nought recking or of pains or scorns

If only I might snuff the air

With fragrance laden, and the fair

Sweet rosebuds gaze on, free from let

Or hindrance.

Then did I forget

All pain and suffering, lost in joy

That nought could ’minish, nought destroy;