21 EXHORTATION TOWARD ALMSGIVING

O Beauty of her, whereby I am undone! O Grace of her, that hath no grace for me! O Love of her, the bit that guides me on To sorrow and to grievous misery! O felon Charms, my poor heart’s enemy! O furtive murderous Pride! O pitiless, great, Cold Eyes of her! have done with cruelty! Have pity upon me ere it be too late! Happier for me if elsewhere I had gone For pity,—ah, far happier for me, Since never of her may any grace be won, And lest dishonor slay me, I must flee. Haro! I cry, (and cry how uselessly!) Haro! I cry to folk of all estate, For I must die unless it chance that she Have pity upon me ere it be too late. M’amye, that day in whose disastrous sun Your beauty’s flower must fade and wane and be No longer beautiful, draws near,—whereon I will nor plead nor mock;—not I, for we Shall both be old and vigorless! M’amye, Drink deep of love, drink deep, nor hesitate Until the spring run dry, but speedily Have pity upon me—ere it be too late! Lord Love, that all love’s lordship hast in fee, Lighten, ah, lighten thy displeasure’s weight. For all true hearts should, of Christ’s charity, Have pity upon me ere it be too late.