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| MADAME, ye ben of al beautè shryne | |
| As fer as cercled is the mappemounde; | |
| For as the cristal glorious ye shyne, | |
| And lyke ruby ben your chekes rounde. | |
| Therwith ye ben so mery and so iocounde, | 5 |
| That at a revel whan that I see you daunce, | |
| It is an oynement unto my wounde, | |
| Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce. | |
| |
| For thogh I wepe of teres ful a tyne, | |
| Yet may that wo myn herte nat confounde; | 10 |
| Your seemly voys that ye so smal out-twyne | |
| Maketh my thoght in Ioye and blis habounde. | |
| So curteisly I go, with lovë bounde, | |
| That to my-self I sey, in my penaunce, | |
| Suffyseth me to love you, Rosemounde, | 15 |
| Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce. | |
| |
| Nas never pyk walwed in galauntyne | |
| As I in love am walwed and y-wounde; | |
| For which ful ofte I of my-self divyne | |
| That I am trewe Tristam the secounde. | 20 |
| My love may not refreyd be nor afounde; | |
| I brenne ay in an amorous plesaunce. | |
| Do what you list, I wil your thral be founde, | |
Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce.
Tregentil. Chaucer. | |
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