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Home  »  The English Poets  »  Extracts from The Pastime of Pleasure: Amoure Laments the Absence of La Belle Pucel

Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. I. Early Poetry: Chaucer to Donne

Stephen Hawes (d. 1523)

Extracts from The Pastime of Pleasure: Amoure Laments the Absence of La Belle Pucel

[From Canto xx.]

THEN agayne I went to the tower melodious

Of good dame Musicke, my leaue for to take;

And priuely with these wordes dolorous

I saied; O tower, thou maiest well aslake

Suche melody nowe in the more to make:

The gemme is gone of all famous port

That was chefe cause of the great comfort.

Whilome thou was the faire tower of light,

But nowe thou art replete with darkenes,

She is nowe gone, that shone in the so bright.

Thow wast sometime the tower of gladnes,

Now maist thou be the tower of heauines,

For the chefe is gone of all thy melody,

Whose beauty cleare made most swete armony.

The faire carbuncle, so full of clearenes,

That in the truely did most purely shine,

The pearle of pitie, replete with swetenes,

The gentle gillofloure, the goodly columbine,

The redolent plante of the dulcet vyne,

The dede aromatike may no more encense,

For she is so farre out of thy presence.

Ah, ah! truely, in the time so past

Mine errande was, the often for to se;

Nowe for to enter I may be agast

When thou art hence, the starre of beauty,

For all my delite was to beholde the:

Ah Tower, Tower! all my ioye is gone;

In me to enter comfort there is none.

So then inwardly my selfe bewaylyng

In the tower I went, into the habitacle

Of dame Musicke, where she was singyng

The ballades swete, in her fayre tabernacle;

Alas, thought I, this is no spectacle

To fede mine eyen, whiche are nowe all blynde,

She is not here, that I was wont to finde.

Then of dame Musicke, with all lowlines,

I did take my leaue, withouten tariyng;

She thanked me with all her mekenes.

And all alone, forthe I went musyng:

Ah, ah, quoth I, my loue and likyng

Is nowe farre hence, on whom my whole delite

Daiely was set vpon her to haue sight.

Farewell, swete harte, farewell, farewel, farewel,

Adieu, adieu, I wouldne I were you by;

God geue me grace with you sone to dwell

Like as I did for to se you dayly;

Your lowly cheare and gentle company

Reioysed my hart with fode most delicate,

Mine eyen to se you were insaciate.