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 | Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century |  |
75
46. A Love Message to My Lady
Goe, lytyll byll, & doe me recommende
Vn-to my lady with godely countynaunce,
ffor, trusty messanger, I the sende.
Pray her that sche make puruyaunce;
ffor my love, thurgh her sufferaunce,
In her Bosome desyreth to reste,
ssyth off all women I loue here beste.
Vn-to my lady with godely countynaunce,
ffor, trusty messanger, I the sende.
Pray her that sche make puruyaunce;
ffor my love, thurgh her sufferaunce,
In her Bosome desyreth to reste,
ssyth off all women I loue here beste.
sshe ys lylly off redolence,
Wych only may doe me plesure;
she is the rose off conffydence,
Most conffortyng to my nature.
Vn-to that lady I me assure,
I wyll hur loue and neuer mo—
Goe, lytyll byll, and sey hur so.
Wych only may doe me plesure;
she is the rose off conffydence,
Most conffortyng to my nature.
Vn-to that lady I me assure,
I wyll hur loue and neuer mo—
Goe, lytyll byll, and sey hur so.
she restyd in my remembraunce,
Day other nyght wher-so I be;
It ys my specyall dalyaunce
for to remembyr hur bewte;
she is enprentyd in ych degre
With yftis of nature in-explycable,
And eke of grace incomparable.
Day other nyght wher-so I be;
It ys my specyall dalyaunce
for to remembyr hur bewte;
she is enprentyd in ych degre
With yftis of nature in-explycable,
And eke of grace incomparable.
The cause þerfor, yf she wyll wytt,
Wyll I presume on sych a flowre
ssay, off hyr, for yt ys I-wrytt,
she is þe feyrest paramour
And to man in ych langour
Most souerayne medyatryce.
Ther-ffor I loue þat flowre of pryce.
Wyll I presume on sych a flowre
ssay, off hyr, for yt ys I-wrytt,
she is þe feyrest paramour
And to man in ych langour
76
Ther-ffor I loue þat flowre of pryce.
Her bewte holy to dyscryve
Who is she that may ssuffyce?
ffor-soth no clerk þat is on lyve,
ssyth she is only withowtyn vyce;
Her flauour excedith the fflowr-delyce.
Afore all flowris I haue hur chose
Enterely in myn herte to close.
Who is she that may ssuffyce?
ffor-soth no clerk þat is on lyve,
ssyth she is only withowtyn vyce;
Her flauour excedith the fflowr-delyce.
Afore all flowris I haue hur chose
Enterely in myn herte to close.
Hyr I beseche, seth I not feyne
Butt only putt me in hur grace,
That off me she not dysdeyne,
Takyng regarde at old trespace;
seth myn entent in euery place
sshall be to doe hur obeysaunce
And hur to loue saunce varyaunce.
Butt only putt me in hur grace,
That off me she not dysdeyne,
Takyng regarde at old trespace;
seth myn entent in euery place
sshall be to doe hur obeysaunce
And hur to loue saunce varyaunce.
| Religious Lyrics of the XVth Century | |