Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 2.pdf/92

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As women are, for they likewise

Oft seek the beauty to despise

That God hath given them, and bedeck

With chains and chaplets head and neck

That His right hand hath wrought: despite

We do His wisdom when delight

We take to render yet more fair

His matchless work, as those who dare

Find fault with it. Away, I cry,

With all such vain frivolity,

I ask alone for raiment meet,

To shield from summer’s scorching heat

And winter’s frost. By God’s help sped,

Can I protect my limbs and head

Against rude tempest, wind and rain,

With cloth and woollen; nowise fain

Am I of outland squirrel fur,

Nor love the cost such things incur.

My wants supplied—I ask no more.

Too much, for you, I waste my store

Of deniers on fine robes of blue

Or scarlet, or fair tinting due

To outland dyes, or fine brunette,

With costly furs around beset,

Which you disport in public places,

With leering smiles and wanton graces,

Dragging the while your costly train

Through dust in drought, through mud, ’neath rain,

Giving small thanks to God or me.

And when you lie all nakedly