7. A LOVER'S NEW YEAR'S GIFT
Amerous balade by Lydegate þat haþe loste his thanke of wymmen.
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[MS. B. M. Adds. 16165: leaves 253, back, to 254, back.]
1
In honnour of þis heghe fest, of custume yere by yere,
Is first for to remembre me vpon my lady dere.
For nowe vpon þis first day I wil my choys renuwe,
All þe whyles þat I lyve to hir to be truwe,
Boþe to serue and love hir best with al myn hert entier.
2
For I haue maked myn avowe, in verray sothefastnesse,
To beo hir faythful truwe man, withoute doublenesse,
Wher so euer þat I be ouþer fer or ner.
3
Hit voydeþe al myn hevynesse, boþe in thought and ded,
Whane þat I remembre me vpon hir goodelyhed,
Because she is so wommanly, boþe of port and chere.
4
And as I stoode myself alloone, vpon þe Nuwe Yere night,
I prayed vnto þe frosty moone, with hir pale light,
To go and recomaunde me vnto my lady dere.
5
And erly on þe nexst morowe, kneling in my cloos,
I prayed eke þe shene sonne, þe houre whane he aroos,
To gon also and sey þe same in his bemys clere.
6
But þo þer came a clowdy thought, and gan myn hert assayle,
And sayde me, howe my servyce þer me shoulde not avayle,
Til my lady mercylesse me hade brought on beer.
7
Hit is ful hard to grave in steel and in a flynt al-so,
And yit men may smyte fyre of hem boþe two,
But I may of hir hert of steel mercye noon requere.
8
Þo came gode hope ageyne and gan myn hert adawe,
And of myn hevy stormy thought apeese wel þe wawe,
And so þe skyes of dispeyre began to wexen clere.
9
And yit ageyne for hevynesse I gane me to compleyne,
Þat she was so fer away, myn hertes soueraine,
Which to spek of wommanhed haþe in þis world no peer.
10
And whanne I thenke verrayly vpon hir wommanhed,
And þer withal recorde also hir hevenly godelyhed,
I seo sheo is so fer fro me, allas, and I am here.
11
For sheo passeþe of beaute Isaude and Eleyne,
I sey in soþe as thenkeþe me, for me list not feyne,
And yonge fresshe Polixene with hir eyen cler.
12
She passeþe eke of desport Dydo of Cartage,
Adrean and Medea by fauour of vysage,
And eke alle þoo þat euer I sawe in any coost appere.
13
Penalapee was in hir tyme moost famous of fayrnesse,
And Ester was ecalled eke myrour of gentylesse,
But yit noon of hem euerychoon is lyke my lady dere.
14
Iff I shal reherce also Gresyldes pacyence,
My lady haþe, I dare wel sey, more passing eloquence
To reherse by and by hir vertus alle efeere.
15
I hade leuer a looke alloone withoute[n] any more
Of hir goodely eyen twoo myn haromes to restore,
Þanne haue alle oþer at my wille I rechche not who hit here.
16
I haue no thing to gyven hir at þis gladde tyme,
But myn hert vndeparted, nowe þis first[e] pryme,
Þe which þis day I sende hir al hooly and entier.
17
And þis lytel symple gifft I prey hir nought refuse,
Þe whiche þoughe hit but symple beo, but God wil me excuse,
For yif she toke hit not aright, I shulde hit bye to dere.
18
Who gyvethe his hert he graunteþe al his good[es] in substance,
And vn-to hir I gif hit al withoute repentaunce,
And þat I am hir truwest man þer by she may hit lere.
19
Now go forthe, hert, and be right glad with hir to abyde,
And wayt vpon hir day or night, wher þat she go or ryde,
And looke þow part not away, I charge, in no maner.
20
And þoughe þou soiourne euer þer hit shal not cost[e] gret
For constreynt of þe wyntur colde ner sunne with his het,
For despense of þe vitayle shal nought beo to deer.
21
Go nowe forþe, þou lytel songe, vpon my message,
And sey howe þat I gyve hir hole with þe surplusage,
Hert, body, and al my good, and my servyce in fere.
22
Lat no wawes ner no wynde lettyn þy passage,
Ne stormes of þe salt[e] see, ne no rokkes rage;
Þe streemes of hir hevenly looke shul alle þy sorowes steer.
23
Go forthe in hast, þou lytel songe, and no lenger tarye,
Now vpon þe first day of þis Ianuarye,
And conferme fully vp my choyse ay frome yere to yere.
Explicit.
