Éstienne Jodelle (1532–1573)

Translated by Henry Francis Cary

I LOVE the bay-tree’s never-withering green,

Which nor the northern blast nor hoary rime

Effaceth; conqueror of death and time;

Emblem wherein eternity is seen.

I love the holly and those prickles keen

On his gloss’d leaves that keep their verdant prime;

And ivy too I love, whose tendrils climb

On tree or bower, and weave their amorous screen.

All three I love, which alway green resemble

The immortal thoughts that in my heart assemble

Of thee, whom still I worship night and day.

But straiter far the knot that hath me bound,

More keen my thorns, and greener is my wound,

Than are the ivy, holly, or green bay.