feared me that she was constrained to leave because of this, and so much did this disquiet me, that I know not how to tell of it. Howsoever, as far as in me lay, I hid my sorrowful anger better than was my wont, and, enduring great grief, sighing, I uttered these words:—
BALLAD
Now in good sooth my joy is vanished clean,
And all my gladness changed to grievous ire:
What profits it, dear flower! since I have seen
Thy going hence, that I could never tire
When thou wast here
To greet thee every day in every year?
Delight that was is grown disaster fell:
Alas! How can I bid thee now farewell!
My love, my choice, my lady and my queen,
For whom my heart is kindled in desire,
What shall I do when love from what hath been
Taketh the gold and leaveth me the mire?
Nor far nor near
Is comfort found, nor any pleasant cheer.
Gone is thy beauty, that did all excel:
Alas! How can I bid thee now farewell!
Thine is the deed, O evil tongue and keen!
Forged for my fate upon an anvil dire:
Fortune, that loveth not my hand, I ween,
Nor yet my pen, did in the task conspire.
