Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/57

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And worst of all, my friends are gone.

Grim Poverty hath spared not one.

Ah yes! dear friend, when Fortune spent

Her spite on me, my friends all went,

Nay, all went not, one still remained.

Whereof my woe-worn heart was fained.

When Fortune chose my goods to take,

Poverty followed in her wake:

I lie—nought Fortune took from me,

All that she took most certainly

Was hers; for had those friends been mine,

I had not seen them all decline

Acquaintance when she left; thus she

In nowise acted wrongfully,

For hers were they, and, like a fool,

I thought I’d bought them, and could rule

Their hearts as they were mine. Alas!

All suddenly beheld I pass

Those worthy friends, whene’er they found

That of my coin, bright, smooth, and round,

No piece remained. Each well-known face

Departed with a wry grimace

Soon as a-top of Fortune’s wheel

My head they saw not, but my heel.

An ingrate were I should I scold

Her who hath shown me good untold

And undeserved.

She now, forsooth,

With tender care and loving ruth

Hath on mine eyes bestowed a calm

And perfect vision; gentle balm

Hath she prepared to salve my sight

And if some twenty friends took flight