BEWAILING in my chamber, thus alone, | |
| Despaired of all joy and remedy, | |
| For-tired of my thought, and woe-begone, | |
| And to the window gan I walk in hy | |
| To see the world and folk that went forbye, | 5 |
| As, for the time, though I of mirthis food | |
| Might have no more, to look it did me good. | |
| |
| Now was there made, fast by the towris wall, | |
| A garden fair; and in the corners set | |
| Ane arbour green, with wandis long and small | 10 |
| Railed about, and so with trees set | |
| Was all the place, and hawthorn hedges knet | |
| That lyf was none walking there forbye, | |
| That might within scarce any wight espy. | |
| |
| So thick the boughis and the leavis green | 15 |
| Beshaded all the alleys that there were, | |
| And mids of every arbour might be seen | |
| The sharpe greene sweete juniper, | |
| Growing so fair with branches here and there, | |
| That as it seemed to a lyf without, | 20 |
| The boughis spread the arbour all about. | |
| |
| And on the smalle greene twistis sat, | |
| The little sweete nightingale, and sung | |
| So loud and clear, the hymnis consecrat | |
| Of lovis use, now soft, now loud among, | 25 |
| That all the gardens and the wallis rung | |
| Right of their song. * * * * * | |
| And therewith cast I down mine eyes again, | |
| Where as I saw, walking under the tower, | |
| Full secretly, new comen here to plain, | 30 |
| The fairist or the freshest younge flower | |
| That ever I saw, methought, before that hour, | |
| For which sudden abate, anon astart, | |
| The blood of all my body to my heart. | |
| |
| And though I stood abasit tho a lite, | 35 |
| No wonder was; for why? my wittis all | |
| Were so overcome with pleasance and delight, | |
| Only through letting of my eyen fall, | |
| That suddenly my heart became her thrall, | |
| For ever of free will,—for of menace | 40 |
| There was no token in her sweete face. | |
| |
| And in my head I drew right hastily, | |
| And eftesoons I leant it out again, | |
| And saw her walk that very womanly, | |
| With no wight mo’, but only women twain. | 45 |
| Then gan I study in myself, and sayn, | |
| “Ah, sweet! are ye a worldly creature, | |
| Or heavenly thing in likeness of nature? | |
| |
| “Or are ye god Cupidis own princess, | |
| And comin are to loose me out of band? | 50 |
| Or are ye very Nature the goddess, | |
| That have depainted with your heavenly hand, | |
| This garden full of flowers as they stand? | |
| What shall I think, alas! what reverence | |
| Shall I mister unto your excellence? | 55 |
| |
| “If ye a goddess be, and that ye like | |
| To do me pain, I may it not astart: | |
| If ye be warldly wight, that doth me sike, | |
| Why list God make you so, my dearest heart, | |
| To do a seely prisoner this smart, | 60 |
| That loves you all, and wot of nought but wo? | |
| And therefore mercy, sweet! sin’ it is so.” | |
| |
| Of her array the form if I shall write, | |
| Towards her golden hair and rich attire, | |
| In fretwise couchit with pearlis white | 65 |
| And great balas leaming as the fire, | |
| With mony ane emeraut and fair sapphire; | |
| And on her head a chaplet fresh of hue, | |
| Of plumis parted red, and white, and blue. | |
| |
| Full of quaking spangis bright as gold, | 70 |
| Forged of shape like to the amorets, | |
| So new, so fresh, so pleasant to behold, | |
| The plumis eke like to the flower jonets; | |
| And other of shape like to the flower jonets; | |
| And above all this, there was, well I wot, | 75 |
| Beauty enough to make a world to doat. | |
| |
| About her neck, white as the fire amail, | |
| A goodly chain of small orfevory, | |
| Whereby there hung a ruby, without fail, | |
| Like to ane heart shapen verily, | 80 |
| That as asp ark of low, so wantonly | |
| Seemed burning upon her white throat, | |
| Now if there was good party, God it wot. | |
| |
| And for to walk that fresh May’s morrow, | |
| Ane hook she had upon her tissue white, | 85 |
| That goodlier had not been seen to-forow, | |
| As I suppose; and girt she was alite, | |
| Thus halflings loose for haste, to such delight | |
| It was to see her youth in goodlihede, | |
| That for rudeness to speak thereof I dread. | 90 |
| |
| In her was youth, beauty, with humble aport, | |
| Bounty, riches, and womanly feature, | |
| God better wot than my pen can report: | |
| Wisdom, largess, estate, and cunning sure, | |
| In every point so guided her measure, | 95 |
| In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance, | |
| That nature might no more her child avance! * * * * * | |
| And when she walked had a little thraw | |
| Under the sweete greene boughis bent, | |
| Her fair fresh face, as white as any snaw, | 100 |
| She turned has, and furth her wayis went; | |
| But then began mine aches and torment, | |
| To see her part and follow I na might; | |
| Methought the day was turned into night. | |
| |
