my famished heart and eyes by granting them opportunity to see your loved and much-desired self. And may you be minded to send me the very joyous news concerning this the which I long for. Sweet and winsome one, who art renowned above all others, I plead for your help more often than I can tell unto you, and I pray God to grant you a happy life, and the will to love me well.—Written right joyously, in the hope of better fortune,
Your humble slave.
Thus did I finish my letter, and, at the end, I added a short ballad, so that she might not be wearied in the reading. Therefore listen to the device of it, for it is after a strange manner—
BALLAD
Kind and fair Saint,
My heart's repose,
Whose sweet constraint
Doth all enclose
That the world knows
Of graciousness,
Vouchsafe me grace!