O Love! since while I gazed, you struck this heart
A blow so dire, that every nerve is pained,

In pity, lord, afford it some relief,

So that the sorrowing spirit may revive.
For see you not these mournful eyes consume
In weeping, through extremity of woe,
Which brings me to the verge of death so near,
That my escape is barred on every side.
See, lady, what a load of grief I bear;

And hearken to my voice, how weak it is
With calling still for pity, and your love:

Yet if it be your pleasure, gentle lady,

That by this grief my heart should waste away,
Behold your servant humble and resigned.

Tell me, kind ladies, have you seen, of late,
That gentle creature who my life consumes?
Το you I own, that if she do but smile,
My thoughts dissolve as snow before the sun.
Hence on my heart such cruel blows arrive

That they would seem to threaten me with death:
Kind ladies, then, wherever ye may see her,
If you by chance should meet her on your way,
O rest with her awhile for pity's sake,

And with humility make known to her

That my life bears for her the weight of death:

And if in mercy she will comfort me,

And ease the mind deep laden with my griefs,
O send to me, far distant, the glad news.

All thoughts that meet within my mind expire,
Fair jewel, when I come to gaze on you;
And when I am near you, I hear Love exclaim,
O flee, if thy destruction thou would'st shun!
The countenance the heart's complexion wears,
Which panting seeks support where'er it can ;

And through the intoxication of great fear,
The very stones, methinks, cry out, Die, die!
He sins who can behold me, then, unmoved,
Nor comfort gives to the affrighted soul,
At least in showing that he pities me
For the distress occasioned by your scorn,
Which is apparent in the deadly hue

Of these sad eyes, that fain would close in death.

Many the times that to my memory comes

The cheerless state imposed on me by Love; And o'er me comes such sadness, then, that oft I say, Alas, was ever fate like mine! For Love assaulteth me so suddenly,

That life itself almost abandons me; One spirit alone escapes alive, and that Is left, fair lady, for it speaks of you. At length I make an effort for relief,

And so, all pale and destitute of power,
I come to gaze on you, in hope of cure:
And if I raise the eyes that I may look,

A trembling at my heart begins, so dread,
It makes the soul take flight from every vein.

So noble and so modest doth appear

My lady when she any one salutes,

That every tongue becomes in trembling mute,
And none dare raise the eyes to look on her.

Robed in humility she hears her praise,

And passes on with calm benignity;
Appearing not a thing of earth, but come
From heaven, to show mankind a miracle.

So pleasing is the sight of her, that he

Who gazes feels a sweetness reach the heart That must be proved or cannot be conceived. And from her countenance there seems to flow

A spirit full of mildness and of love,
Which says forever to the soul, O sigh.

He the perfection sees of every grace,

Who doth my lady among ladies see.
They who partake her company are bound
To render thanks to heaven for boon so fair.

Her beauty, too, has virtue so benign,

That it excites no envy in another,

But a resolve to walk like her, arrayed
In gentleness, fidelity, and love.

Her look on all things sheds humility,

And makes her not alone delight the eye,
But everything through her receiveth honor.

And she so perfect is in all her acts,

That no one can recall her to the mind
Who doth not sigh amid the sweets of Love.

A lady, piteous, and of tender age,

Richly adorned with human gentleness,
Stood where I oft was calling upon death;
And seeing that my eyes were full of grief,
And listening to the folly of my words,
Was moved by fear to weep with bitterness.
And other ladies, who were kindly drawn
To notice me, through her who wept with me,
Removed her from my side,

And then approached, to rouse me by their voice.
And one said, Sleep no more!

Another said, Why thus discomfort thee?
Then fled the strange distressing fantasy,
As I was calling on my lady's name.
So indistinct and mournful was my voice,
And broken so by anguish and by tears,
That in my heart I only heard the name:
And with a countenance o'erspread with shame,

So strongly it had mounted to my face,
Love made me turn to them distractedly;
And such was my complexion to the sight,
That it led others to discourse of death.

O let us comfort him,

Said each one to the other tenderly.

And oft they said to me,

What hast thou seen that has unmanned thee thus?
And when I had regained some strength, I said,
Ladies, to you I will relate the whole.

Whilst I lay pondering on my ebbing life,

And saw how brief its tenure and how frail,
Love wept within my heart, where he abides;
For my unhappy soul was wandering so,
That sighing heavily, it said, in thought,
My lady too most certainly shall die.
Such consternation then my reason seized,

That my eyes closed through fear and heaviness;
And scattered far and wide

My spirits fled, and each in error strayed :

Imagination then,

Bereft of understanding and of truth,

Showed me the forms of ladies in distress,

Who said to me, Thou die'st, ay, thou shalt die.

Many the doubtful things which next I saw,

While wandering in imagination's maze;
I seemed to be I know not in what place,
And to see ladies pass with hair all loose,
Some weeping, and some uttering loud laments,
Which darted burning grief into the soul.
And then methought I saw a thickening veil
Obscure the sun, and night's fair star appear,
And sun and star both weep;

Birds flying through the dusky air drop down,
And earth itself to shake;

And then appeared a man, feeble, and pale,

Saying, What dost thou here? Hast thou not heard?
Dead is thy lady, she who was so fair.

I raised mine eyes, oppressed and bathed in tears,
And saw what like a shower of manna seemed,
And angels re-ascending up to heaven;
And spread before them was a little cloud,
Behind which they were chanting loud, Hosanna.
And if they more had added, you should hear.
Then Love thus spoke: Concealment here shall end;
Come now and see our lady on her bier.

Deceitful fancy then

Conducted me to see my lady dead:

And while I gazed, I saw

That ladies with a veil were covering her;

And in her face humility so true

There was, it seemed to say, I am in peace.

So humble in my sorrow I became,

Seeing such humbleness in her expressed,
That I exclaimed, O Death! I hold thee sweet;
Thou must be deemed, henceforth, a gentle thing,
Since thou hast been united to my lady,
And pity thou should'st have, and not disdain:
Behold me so desirous to be one

Of thine, that I resemble thee in faith:
Come, for the heart entreats thee.

Then, all sad rites being o'er, I went my way;
And when I was alone,

I said, with eyes upraised to realms above;

Blessed is he who sees thee, beauteous soul!

'Twas then you called to me, thanks to your love.

Say, pilgrims, ye who go thus pensively,

Musing, perchance, on things that distant are,
Come ye from land and men so far away,
As by your outward mien ye show to us,
That ye weep not when passing through the midst
Of the dejected city, in her woe,

Seeming as persons who have never heard
Of the calamity oppressing her?