No longer hath she cause to fear
Lest rude marauders come anear
Roses or rosebuds, they repose
Safely within that high-built close.
Or fast asleep or wide awake
She, undisturbed, full rest may take.4180
The Lover.
The Lover’s lament
Alas! what wretched fate is mine,
Outside that envious wall to pine,
All desolate and in misery.
What heart but must bestow on me
Some pity, did it wot the price
At which I offer sacrifice
To Love. My wound but bleeds afresh,
And caught anew within the mesh
Of Cupid am I. Short delight
Was mine, and now a darker night4140
O’erclouds my heart.
What think ye then,
Am I not like to husbandmen
Who cast the seed to earth, and see
With joy how springeth sturdily
In spring-tide’s days, and through the hours
Of summer, fed by sun and showers,
The stalk, and flourisheth the ear?
But ere the season comes to shear
The ripening grain, the hail descends,
Destroys the tender growth, and ends4150
The peasant’s fairest hope. So I,
Alas! must see my hope pass by,
And all my patience lost. But Love,
(Who helped my gentle suit above
