Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919). Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse. 1903.
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| IN a valley of this restless mind | |
| I sought in mountain and in mead, | |
| Trusting a true love for to find. | |
| Upon an hill then took I heed; | |
| A voice I heard (and near I yede 1) | 5 |
| In great dolour complaining tho: 2 | |
| See, dear soul, how my sides bleed: | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| Upon this hill I found a tree, | |
| Under the tree a man sitting; | 10 |
| From head to foot wounded was he, | |
| His heartë blood I saw bleeding. | |
| A seemly man to be a king, | |
| A gracious face to look unto. | |
| I asked why he had paining: | 15 |
| He said, Quia amore langueo. | |
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| I am true love that false was never; | |
| My sister, man’s soul, I loved her thus. | |
| Because we would in no wise dissever, | |
| I left my kingdom glorious. | 20 |
| I purveyed her a palace full precious; | |
| She fled, I followed, I loved her so, | |
| That I suffered this pain piteous, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| My fair love and my spousë bright! | 25 |
| I saved her fro beating, and she hath me bet; | |
| I clothed her in grace and heavenly light, | |
| This bloody shirt she hath on me set: | |
| For longing of love yet would I not let; | |
| Sweetë strokës are these: lo! | 30 |
| I have loved her ever as I her het, 3 | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| I crowned her with bliss, and she me with thorn; | |
| I led her to chamber, and she me to die; | |
| I brought her to worship, and she me to scorn; | 35 |
| I did her reverence, and she me villainy. | |
| To love that loveth is no maistry: 4 | |
| Her hate made never my love her foe— | |
| Ask me then no question why— | |
| Quia amore langueo. | 40 |
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| Look unto mine handes, man! | |
| These gloves were given me when I her sought; | |
| They be not white, but red and wan; | |
| Embroidered with blood my spouse them brought; | |
| They will not off, I loose them nought, | 45 |
| I woo her with them wherever she go. | |
| These hands for her so friendly fought, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
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| Marvel not, man, though I sit still: | |
| See, love hath shod me wonder strait, | 50 |
| Buckled my feet, as was her will, | |
| With sharpë nails (well thou mayest wait!). | |
| In my love was never desait, | |
| All my members I have opened her to; | |
| My body I made her heartes bait, 5 | 55 |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| In my side I have made her nest; | |
| Look in; how wide a wound is here! | |
| This is her chamber, here shall she rest, | |
| That she and I may sleep in fere. 6 | 60 |
| Here may she wash if any filth were, | |
| Here is succour for all her woe; | |
| Come when she will she shall have cheer, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| I will abide till she be ready; | 65 |
| I will her sue or she say nay; | |
| If she be retchless I will be greedy, | |
| If she be dangerous I will her pray; | |
| If she do weep, then bide I ne may: | |
| Mine arms been spread to clip her me to. | 70 |
| Cry once, I come: now soul, assay | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| Fairë love, let us go play, | |
| Apples been ripe in my gardine; | |
| I shall thee clothe in a new array, | 75 |
| Thy meat shall be milk, honey and wine. | |
| Fairë love, let us go dine; | |
| Thy sustenance is in my scrip, lo! | |
| Tarry not now, my fair spouse mine, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | 80 |
| |
| If thou be foul, I shall thee make clean, | |
| If thou be sick, I shall thee heal; | |
| If thou mourn aught, I shall thee mene. 7 | |
| Spouse, why wilt thou not with me deal? | |
| Foundest thou ever love so leal? | 85 |
| What wilt thou, soul, that I shall do? | |
| I may not unkindly thee appeal, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
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| What shall I do now with my spouse | |
| But abide her of my gentleness, | 90 |
| Till that she look out of her house | |
| Of fleshly affection? love mine she is; | |
| Her bed is made, her bolster is bliss, | |
| Her chamber is chosen; is there none mo. | |
| Look out at the window of kindëness, | 95 |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
| |
| My love’s in her chamber, hold your peace! | |
| Make no noise, but let her sleep; | |
| My babe shall suffer no disease, | |
| I may not hear my dear child weep. | 100 |
| With my pap I shall her keep, | |
| Ne marvel ye not though I tend her to; | |
| This hole in my side had ne’er been so deep, | |
| But quia amore langueo. | |
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| Long and love thou never so high, | 105 |
| My love is more than thine may be; | |
| Thou gladdest, thou weepest, I sit thee by; | |
| Yet wouldst thou once, love, look at me! | |
| Should I alway feedë thee | |
| With children’s meat? nay, love, not so! | 110 |
| I will prove thy love with adversity, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | |
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| Wax not weary, mine ownë wife! | |
| What meed is aye to live in comfórt? | |
| In tribulation I reign more rife | 115 |
| Ofter timës than in disport. | |
| In weal and in woe I am aye to support, | |
| Mine ownë wife, go not me fro! | |
| Thy meed is marked, when thou are mort, | |
| Quia amore langueo. | 120 |
