![Manuscript](../img_360/072v_360.jpg) |
3763 Stroke to myn herte withoute more,
3764 And me alegged of my sore,
3765 So was I full of ioye and blisse.
3766 It is faire sich a flour to kisse,
3767 It was so swoote and saverous.
3768 I myght not be so Angwisshous,
3769 That I mote glad and Ioly be,
3770 Whanne that I remembre me.
3771 Yit ever among, sothly to seyne,
3772 I suffre noye and moche peyne.
3773 The see may never be so stille,
3774 That with a litel wynde it wille
3775 Overwhelme and turne Also,
3776 As it were woode, in wawis goo.
3777 Aftir the calme the trouble soune
3778 Mote folowe, and chaunge as the moone.
3779 Right so farith love, that yelde in oon
3780 Holdith his anker; for right Anoon
3781 Whanne they in ese wene beste to lyve,
3782 They ben with tempest all for dryve.
3783 Who serveth love, can telle of woo;
3784 The stoundemele ioye mote overgoo.
3785 Now he hurteth, and now he cureth,
3786 For elde in oo poynt love endureth.
|