Merciles Beaute
A Triple Roundel I. Captivity Your yën two wol sle me sodenly, I may the beaute of hem not sustene, So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene. And but your word wol helen hastily My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene, Your yën two wol sle me sodenly; may the beaute of hem not sustene. Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully, That ye ben of my lyf and deth the quene; For with my deth the trouthe shal be sene. Your yën two wol sle me sodenly, I may the beaute of hem not sustene, So woundeth hit through-out my herte kene. II. Rejection. So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne. Giltles my deth thus han ye me purchaced; I sey yow soth, me nedeth not to feyne; So hath your beaute fro your herle chaced Pilee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne Allas! that nature hath in yow compassed So gret beaute, that no man may atteyne To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne. So hath your beaute fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne; For daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne. III. Escape. Sin I fro love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene; Sin I am fre, I counte him not a bene. He may answere, and seye this or that; I do no fors, I speke right as I mene. Sin I fro love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene. Love hath my name y-strike out of his sclat, And he is strike out of my bokes clene For ever-mo; [ther] is non other mene. Sin I fro love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene; Sin I am fre, I counte him not a bene. Explicit.
Credit
This poem is in the public domain.
Date Published
01/01/1375