To Rosemounde

The Canterbury Tales and Other Works of Chaucer (Middle English), by Geoffery Chaucer, [14th cent.], at sacred-texts.com

The Shorter Poems

To Rosemounde

 Madame, ye ben of al beaute shryne
 As fer as cercled is the mapamounde,
 For as the cristal glorious ye shyne,
 And lyke ruby ben your chekes rounde.
 Therwith ye ben so mery and so jocounde
 That at a revel whan that I see you daunce,
 It is an oynement unto my wounde,
 Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.
 For thogh I wepe of teres ful a tyne,
10 Yet may that wo myn herte nat confounde;
 Your semy voys that ye so smal out twyne
 Maketh my thoght in joy and blis habounde.
 So curtaysly I go with love bounde
 That to myself I sey in my penaunce,
 "Suffyseth me to love you, Rosemounde,
 Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce."
 Nas never pyk walwed in galauntyne
 As I in love am walwed and ywounde,
 For which ful ofte I of myself devyne
20 That I am trewe Tristam the secounde.
 My love may not refreyde nor affounde,
 I brenne ay in an amorous plesaunce.
 Do what you lyst, I wyl your thral be founde,
 Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.