“Lady beauteous, lady pure,
Lady happy, lady kind,
Love, methinks, has little power,
So proud thy bearing, o’er thy mind.
Didst thou feel the power of love,
Then would those fair lips unclose,
And be taught in sighs to move.”
“What is love, then, good sir knight?
Is it man or woman? Say;
Tell me, if I know it not,
How it comes to pass, I pray.
Thou shouldst tell me all its story,
Whence, and where, it cometh here,
That my heart may yet be wary.”
“Lady, love so mighty is,
All things living to her bow;
Various is her power, but I
Will tell thee what of her I know.
Love is good, and love is ill,
Joy and woe she can bestow,
Spreading life and spirit still.”
“Can love banish, courteous knight,
Pining grief and wasting woe,
Pour gay spirits on the heart,
Polish, grace, and ease bestow?
If in her these powers may meet,
Great is she, and thus shall be
Her praise and honor great.”
“Lady, I will say yet more:
Lovely are her gifts, her hand
Joy bestows, and honor too;
The virtues come at her command,
Joys of sight and joys of heart,
She bestows, as who may choose,
And splendid fortune does impart.”
“How shall I obtain, sir knight,
All these gifts of lady-love?
Must I bear a load of care?
Much too weak my frame would prove,
Grief and care I cannot bear;
Can I, then, the boon obtain?
Tell me, sir knight, then how and where.”
“Lady, thou shouldst think of me
As I think of thee – heartily:
Thus shall we together blend
Firm in love’s sweet harmony –
Thou still mine, I still thine.”
“It cannot be, sir knight, with me;
Be your own, I’ll still be mine.”