Since that in checks thus overthwart,
And coyly looks thou dost delight;
It doth suffice that mine thou wert,

Though change hath put thy faith to flight.

Alas! it is a peevish spite,

To yield thyself, and then to part;
But since thou force thy faith so light,
It doth suffice that mine thou wert.

And since thy love doth thus decline, And in thy heart such hate doth grow; It doth suffice that thou wert mine, And with good-will I quite it so.

Sometime my friend, farewell my foe,
Since thou change I am not thine;
But for relief of all my woe,

It doth suffice that thou wert mine.

Praying you all that hear this song,
To judge no wight, nor none to blame;
It doth suffice she doth me wrong,
And that herself doth know the same.

And though she change it is no shame,
Their kind it is, and hath been long;
Yet I protest she hath no name;

It doth suffice she doth me wrong.

THE LOVER LAMENTS THE DEATH OF HIS LOVE.

The pillar perished is whereto I leant,
The strongest stay of mine unquiet mind;
The like of it no man again can find,

From east to west still seeking though he went,
To mine unhap. For hap away hath rent

Of all my joy the very bark and rind:
And I, alas, by chance am thus assigned
Daily to mourn, till death do it relent.
But since that thus it is by destiny,
What can I more but have a woeful heart;
My pen in plaint, my voice in care-full cry,
My mind in woe, my body full of smart;
And I myself, myself always to hate,

Till dreadful death do ease my doleful state.

THE NEW

PUBLIC LIBRAR 1

ASTOR. LENOJ

TILDEN MOTTA SA