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E’en yet will he promote my cause,

For, to deserve my grace, Love’s laws

He in that fair Romance shall write,

Which he begins, and shall indite

The tale so far, before his death,

As where he to Fair-Welcome saith:

(Who, languishing, doth wear through time

In prison, though unstained by crime)

“Hear me confess that darkest fear

Invades me lest it should appear

That you forget me quite; what woe

Untold would fall on me to know

That I had lost your friendship, then

Were I unhappiest of men….”

Behold we William here expire:

Upon his tomb may sacred fire

Burn aloes, cinnamon, and myrrh,

In honour of my worshipper.

Then shall appear John Clopinel,

Joyous of heart, of body well

And fairly built: at Meun shall he

Be born where Loire flows peacefully,

Who, whether he keepeth feast or fast,

Will never while his life-days last

Forget my service, but without

Envy or avarice go about

To honour me, untouched by care

How he at Reason’s hands may fare,

Who all my precious balms doth scorn,

Which salve sad hearts with love o’erworn,

And if it happen that he make

Some error, failure, or mistake,