 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
RONDEAU REDOUBLÉ.
MY day and night are in my lady's hand;
I have none other sunrise than her sight:
For me her favour glorifies the land,
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light.
Her face is fairer than the hawthorn white,
When all a-flower in May the hedge-rows stand:
Whilst she is kind, I know of none affright:
My day and night are in my lady's hand.
I have none other sunrise than her sight:
For me her favour glorifies the land,
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light.
Her face is fairer than the hawthorn white,
When all a-flower in May the hedge-rows stand:
Whilst she is kind, I know of none affright:
My day and night are in my lady's hand.
All heaven in her glorious eyes is spanned:
Her smile is softer than the Summer night,
Gladder than daybreak on the Faery strand:
I have none other sunrise than her sight.
Her silver speech is like the singing flight
Of runnels rippling o'er the jewelled sand;
Her kiss a dream of delicate delight;
For me her favour glorifies the land.
Her smile is softer than the Summer night,
Gladder than daybreak on the Faery strand:
I have none other sunrise than her sight.
Her silver speech is like the singing flight
Of runnels rippling o'er the jewelled sand;
Her kiss a dream of delicate delight;
For me her favour glorifies the land.
194
What if the Winter slay the Summer bland!
The gold sun in her hair burns ever bright:
If she be sad, straightway all joy is banned:
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light.
Come weal or woe, I am my lady's knight
And in her service every ill withstand:
Love is my lord, in all the world's despite,
And holdeth in the hollow of his hand
My day and night.
The gold sun in her hair burns ever bright:
If she be sad, straightway all joy is banned:
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light.
Come weal or woe, I am my lady's knight
And in her service every ill withstand:
Love is my lord, in all the world's despite,
And holdeth in the hollow of his hand
My day and night.
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |