44. A Rondel of Love

LO, quhat it is to love
Learn ye that list to prove,
By me, I say, that no ways may
The ground of grief remove,
But still decay both nicht and day:	5
Lo, quhat it is to love!

Love is ane fervent fire
Kindlit without desire,
Short pleasure, long displeasure,
Repentance is the hire;	10
Ane pure tressour without measour;
Love is ane fervent fire.

To love and to be wise,
To rage with good advice;
Now thus, now than, so gois the game,	15
Incertain is the dice;
There is no man, I say, that can
Both love and to be wise.

Flee always from the snare,
Learn at me to beware;	20
It is ane pain, and double trane
Of endless woe and care;
For to refrain that danger plain,
Flee always from the snare.