Strange new tidings of me
May soon come to your ear;
When I see her, lovely,
Who held me, once, so dear,
Yet who never calls me
Nor wishes I were near
Till my sad heart galls me
And soon must break, I fear.
Lord, this world’s great ruler,
Bring her to yield or I,
Seeing her grow crueller,
Have no choice but to die.
I’ll put no more faith, now,
In lots or prophecy:
Ruin and my death, now,
Such schemes have brought to me
For my lady, lovely,
Whom I have loved so long
Takes no notice of me
As if I'd done her wrong;
This despair’s so fearful,
All hope has fled away,
Though some think me cheerful
Because I sing or play.
All this life’s worth nothing
But mockery and scorn
Longing so and loving
The loveliest lady born.
Who first made a mirror
Deserves his death from me;
Telling truth the nearer,
I’ve no worse enemy.
Seeing herself clearer
And learning all her worth,
Daily she’ll grow dearer
While I live on in dearth.
She’d not lustfully want me;
For lust is far from right;
Still, suppose she’d grant me
Some trifling small delight,
I would freely swear it
By all that men hold true
None should ever hear it
Whatever she might do.
Still, whate’er she will me,
I’ll take what she ordain;
If she desired to kill me
I still would not complain.
Yet complaints, resentments
And tears are justified:
All my old contentment
Is lost through my false pride;
All my foolish boldness
Brings me a sad return:
Merely scorn and coldness
From her for whom I yearn.
Lord, this pride that grieves me,
Destroy it if you deign;
Pleasure’s right to leave me
Since I’ve caused my own pain.
Countering love’s damnation
And all the pains I bear,
I’ve this mitigation:
My thoughts dwell with her there.
Who’d attempt such madness
As to distract my heart,
Villainous pride and badness
Are truly that man’s part.
Through this world, my spirit’s
My truest messenger;
While I linger here, it’s
A hostage held by her.
