Contents
-BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD
Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
Nicholas Grimald. 151962
42. A True Love
WHAT sweet relief the showers to thirsty plants we see, | |
What dear delight the blooms to bees, my true love is to me! | |
As fresh and lusty Ver foul Winter doth exceed— | |
As morning bright, with scarlet sky, doth pass the evening’s weed— | |
As mellow pears above the crabs esteemèd be— | 5 |
So doth my love surmount them all, whom yet I hap to see! | |
The oak shall olives bear, the lamb the lion fray, | |
The owl shall match the nightingale in tuning of her lay, | |
Or I my love let slip out of mine entire heart, | |
So deep reposèd in my breast is she for her desart! | 10 |
For many blessèd gifts, O happy, happy land! | |
Where Mars and Pallas strive to make their glory most to stand! | |
Yet, land, more is thy bliss that, in this cruel age, | |
A Venus’ imp thou hast brought forth, so steadfast and so sage. | |
Among the Muses Nine a tenth if Jove would make, | 15 |
And to the Graces Three a fourth, her would Apollo take. | |
Let some for honour hunt, and hoard the massy gold: | |
With her so I may live and die, my weal cannot be told. | |