Classic Poem

C HRIST'S Complaint FOR H IS S ISTER , M AN'S S OUL .

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 I took heed;
A voice I heard, — and near I yede —
In huge dolour complaining tho:
" See dear soul how my sides bleed
Quia amore langueo. "

Upon this hill I found a tree,
Under the tree a man sitting:
From head to foot wounded was he,
His hearte blood I saw bleeding;
A seemly man to be a king,
A gracious face to look unto:
I asked why he had paining
He said: " Quia amore langueo " .

" 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.
I purveyed for her a palace precious,
She fled, I followed, I sought her so;
That I suffered this pain piteous
Quia amore langueo. "

" I crowned her with bliss and she me with thorn;
I gave her a bower, she led me to die;
I brought her to worship and she me to scorn;
I did her reverence, she me vilany.
To love the loving is no mastery;
Her hate made never my love her foe.
Ask me then no question why, —
Quia amore langueo. "

" I will abide till she be ready;
I will her sue if she say nay;
If she be reckless I will be steady;
If she be dangerous I will her pray.
If she weep, then hide I ne may
My arms are outstretched to clip her me to,
Crying, " Now soul I come, — soul stay!" —
Quia amore langueo. "

" I sit on this hill for to see far,
I look in the valley my fair spouse to see:
Now runneth she wayward, now comes she me near;
For out of my sight may she not flee
Some wait her for their prey to make her to flee,
I run them before and fleme her her foe:
— Return then my spouse again to me,
Quia amore langueo. "

" Fair love now let us go play;
Apples be ripe in my garden.
I shall thee clothe in a new array,
Thy meat shall be milk, honey and wine.
Fair love, then let us go dine;
Thy sustenance is in my crip, lo!
Tarry thou not, my fair spouse mine,
Quia amore langueo. "

" If thou be foul, I shall make thee clean,
If thou be sick I shall thee heal,
If thou mourn ought I shall thee meene;
Why wilt thou not, fair love, with me deal?
Foundest thou ever love so leal?
What would'st thou, spouse, that I should do?
— I cannot unkindly thee appelle,
Quia amore langueo. "

" What shall I do with my fair spouse
But abide her of my gentleness,
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 on me at the window of kindness,
Quia amore langueo. "

" My love is in her chamber. Hold your peace;
Make ye no noise but let her sleep.
My babe I would not were in dis-ease,
I could not hear my dear child weep.
With watchful care I shall her keep;
Nor marvel ye not that I tend her to;
This hole in my side had ne'er been so deep
But Quia amore langueo. "

" Yearn'st thou with love never so high
My love is more than thine may be:
Thou weepest, thou gladdest, I sit thee by;
Yet would'st thou but once, dear, look on me!
— Must I always feed thee
With children's meat? Nay, love, not so:
I will prove thy love with adversity,
Quia amore langueo. "

" Wax not weary, mine own dear wife,
What meed is it to live e'er in comfort?
In tribulation I reign more rife
Often times than in disport,
In weal and in woe I am aye to support;
Mine owne wife, — go not me fro!
Thy meed is marked when thou art mort,
Quia amore langueo. "