Page:The Book of the Duke of True Lovers - 1908.djvu/158

126 letter is blotted with my tears, for, on my soul, it has not been possible for me to restrain them whiles that I have been writing it. Honoured Lady, I commend me to you more than I know how to say, and I pray God to grant you all good things that are to be desired.—Written in great grief, with tears and weeping.

Your poor lover, the most unhappy of men.

And I sent this letter to my lady, and wept sorely whilst delivering it. And I remained cast down, sad, and silent, making plaint unto myself. And I said in my grief—

Ah, Death, Death, Death, to thee I make my prayer!

Come, rend me from this dolorous world apart!

Life lures no longer: since my lady fair

Would have me shun her, let my hapless heart

Be very prey to pain and sorrow's sword.

Gladness I leave and all delight for aye,

And thee alone, O Death, have I implored

Because my lady hath bidden me good-bye.