Classic Poem

CXLVII

Ye know my heart, my lady dear,
That since the time I was your thrall
I have been yours both whole and clear
Though my reward hath been but small.
So am I yet and more than all.
And ye know well how I have served
As, if ye prove, it shall appear:
How well, how long,
How faithfully,
And suffered wrong
How patiently.
Then since that I have never swerved
Let not my pains be undeserved.

Ye know also, though ye say nay,
That you alone are my desire
And you alone it is that may
Assuage my fervent flaming fire.
Succour me then, I you require.
Ye know it were a just request,
Since ye do cause my heat, I say,
If that I burn
That ye will warm
And not to turn
All to my harm,
Sending such flame from frozen breast
Against all right for my unrest.

And I know well how frowardly
Ye have mista'en my true intent
And hitherto how wrongfully
I have found cause for to repent.
But if your heart doth not relent,
Since I do know that this ye know,
Ye shall slay me all wilfully;
For me and mine
And all I have
Ye may assign
To spill or save.
Why are you then so cruel foe
Unto your own that loves you so?