Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/37

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For e’en though presents be despised,

No lover who is well advised

Will bring down ruin on his head

By gifts inordinate, but, led

By prudence, know how so to give.

That hate may die and goodwill live.

And then lament you that love’s pain

You fear is labour spent in vain.

And if your slender purse affords

Sparse gifts, let plenteous honied words

And promises their place supply,

And dream of payment—by-and-by;

But swear with such effrontery.

That none can doubt you’ll faithful be.

Humbly demand their kindly aid;

And even while your suit is made,

Adown your cheeks let streamlets flow,

Therefrom great benefit will grow

To your design. Weep—would you please

These gaolers—on your bended knees,

Hands clasped together, eyelids wet

With tears enough to wear and fret

Your face with seams, which, seeing fall

So freely, must their hearts recall

To pity.

But if nought to weep

Your eyes incline, ’tis well to steep

The lids with moisture from the tongue;

Or surer still, they may be stung

With garlic or fresh onion juice;

Effectively will that unloose

Of scalding tears a plenteous rain,

As grief might do, or poignant pain.