love poetry

" A THING unbeautiful is poverty —
Yet I dare say that if you have a store
Of coin and jewels, and will give of these
As many as you promise, you may pluck
Roses and buds, no matter how well kept.
You may not wealthy be, but don't be close
Or miserly; give gladly fair, small gifts
That won't impoverish you unreasonably.
If they should do that, you would fare but ill;
Many would mock and few would pardon you
For having paid for goods more than they're worth.
" He's well advised who offers of fresh fruits

" NEVERTHELESS, I certainly advise
That you should not remain without a friend.
Why not take me — a gentlewoman fair
Worthy to serve the Emperor of Rome?
I'm willing; and, if me you will accept,
Do you know what my love is worth to you?
So much that you'll not want for anything
Which proper is, whatever may betide.
You'll find yourself so great a lord that ne'er
Was any greater known; and I will do
Whate'er you wish. Never too great desire
Can you conceive, if you will do my will;
And 'twere unfitting to do otherwise.

Thus Reason preached, but Love set all at naught;
For though I heard the sermon word for word
I took no stock in it, so drawn was I
To Love, who still my every thought pursued
Like hunter, following me everywhere,
And ever kept my heart beneath his wing.
When he spied me thus sitting, as in church,
Out at one ear he shoveled from my head
Whate'er in at the other Reason pitched;
So she not only vainly spent her pains
But even angered me, till I replied:
" Madam, you would betray me; should I scorn

" CONFIDENCE being lost, I'm near despair;
But I will not give up — abandon Hope.
Worthless I'd be if Hope should fail me quite.
In this I should find comfort: that Love swore,
To make me better bear my ills, that Hope
Should be with me wherever I might go.
But what of that? What does it mean to me?
Though Hope be courteous and debonair,
She's never certain. Although she may be
Lady and mistress of all folk in love,
She puts them in great pain, and oft deceives
By promise false which she will never keep.

Long time I lingered near the place, distraught,
Till Reason from her observation tower,
On which she scans the country all about,
Came forth, approaching nigh to where I stood.
She's not too young or old, too tall or short,
Too fat or lean. Her eyes like two stars shone.
She wore a noble crown upon her head.
A queen she might have been, but more did seem,
To judge by her appearance and her face,
An angel come, perhaps, from Paradise.
Nature could hardly frame a work so fair.
'Twas God himself, unless the Scriptures lie,

When Love had thus commanded me, I said:
" Sir, how and by what means may I endure
The evils you have just detailed to me?
They overwhelm my mind with grievous fear;
For how can any man live and support,
In every place and time, such sighs and griefs,
Such tears and cares, such burnings and such pains,
And so severe a strain? So help me God,
I marvel much that anyone could live,
Were he not made of steel, in such a hell. "
The God of Love, explaining, thus replied:
" No man has good unless he purchase it.

" WHEN, as my sermoning advises you,
Your heart you have bestowed, there will befall
Adventures hard and heavy for Love's thane.
Often, when you're reminded of your love,
You'll find it necessary to depart
From company, lest they perceive your wound.
Then in your loneliness will come to you
Sighs and complaints, tremors and other ills.
Tormented will you be in many ways:
One hour you will be hot, another cold;
One hour you will be flushed, another pale;
No quartan fever that you ever had —

Thus I did all he wished, and when past doubt
My loyalty was placed I said to him:
" My lord, to do your will is my desire;
I pray you take my service graciously.
To me you owe it to maintain good faith.
'Tis not because of dastardy I speak,
For by no means do I your service fear;
But vain is servant's toil to do his best
If, when he offers him his services,
His master looks on him disdainfully. "
Love answered, " Now be not at all dismayed;
Since you have placed yourself among my train,

THE GOD OF LOVE, who, ever with bent bow
Had taken care to watch and follow me,
Beneath a fig tree lastly took his stand;
And when he saw that I had fixed my choice
Upon the bud that pleased me most of all
He quickly chose an arrow; nocking it,
He pulled the cord back to his ear. The bow
Was marvelously strong, and good his aim,
And when he shot at me the arrow pierced
My very heart, though entering by my eye.
Then such a chill seized me that since that day
I oft, remembering it, have quaked again

Among the thousand things reflected there
I chose a full-charged rosebush in a plot
Encinctured with a hedge; and such desire
Then seized me that I had not failed to seek
The place where that rose heap was on display
Though Pavia or Paris had tempted me.
When I was thus o'ertaken by this rage,
Which many another better man has crazed,
Straightway I hurried toward the red rosebush;
And I can tell you that, when I approached
The blooms, the sweetness of their pleasant smell
Did so transfuse my being that as naught