| |
| SO cruel prison how could betide, alas, | |
| As proud Windsor, where I in lust and joy, | |
| With a Kinges son, my childish years did pass, | |
| In greater feast than Priam’s sons of Troy. | |
| Where each sweet place returns a taste full sour. | 5 |
| The large green courts, where we were wont to hove, 1 | |
| With eyes cast up into the Maiden’s tower, | |
| And easy sighs, such as folk draw in love. | |
| The stately seats, the ladies bright of hue. | |
| The dances short, long tales of great delight; | 10 |
| With words and looks, that tigers could but rue; | |
| Where each of us did plead the other’s right. | |
| The palme-play, 2 where, despoiled for the game, | |
| With dazed eyes oft we by gleams of love | |
| Have miss’d the ball, and got sight of our dame, | 15 |
| To bait her eyes, which kept the leads above. | |
| The gravel’d ground, with sleeves tied on the helm, | |
| On foaming horse, with swords and friendly hearts; | |
| With chere, as though one should another whelm, | |
| Where we have fought, and chased oft with darts. | 20 |
| With silver drops the mead yet spread for ruth, | |
| In active games of nimbleness and strength, | |
| Where we did strain, trained with swarms of youth, | |
| Our tender limbs, that yet shot up in length. | |
| The secret groves, which oft we made resound | 25 |
| Of pleasant plaint, and of our ladies’ praise; | |
| Recording oft what grace each one had found, | |
| What hope of speed, what dread of long delays. | |
| The wild forest, the clothed holts with green; | |
| With reins availed, and swift y-breathed horse, | 30 |
| With cry of hounds, and merry blasts between, | |
| Where we did chase the fearful hart of force. | |
| The void vales 3 eke, that harbour’d us each night: | |
| Wherewith, alas! reviveth in my breast | |
| The sweet accord, such sleeps as yet delight; | 35 |
| The pleasant dreams, the quiet bed of rest; | |
| The secret thoughts, imparted with such trust; | |
| The wanton talk, the divers change of play; | |
| The friendship sworn, each promise kept so just, | |
| Wherewith we past the winter night away. | 40 |
| And with this thought the blood forsakes the face; | |
| The tears berain 4 my cheeks of deadly hue: | |
| The which, as soon as sobbing sighs, alas! | |
| Up-supped have, thus I my plaint renew: | |
| ‘O place of bliss! renewer of my woes! | 45 |
| Give me account, where is my noble fere? 5 | |
| Whom in thy walls thou dost each night enclose; | |
| To other 6 lief; but unto me most dear.’ | |
| Echo, alas! that doth my sorrow rue, | |
| Returns thereto a hollow sound of plaint. | 50 |
| Thus I alone, where all my freedom grew, | |
| In prison pine, with bondage and restraint: | |
| And with remembrance of the greater grief, | |
| To banish the less, I find my chief relief. | |
