Page:Romance of the Rose (Ellis), volume 1.pdf/95

My inmost soul. Oh sweeter far
That rose to me, than violets are
When spring awakes; it drew me on,
Though wiser ’twere if I had gone
Swiftfooted thence in hasty flight;
But oft it haps that folly’s might
Prevails o’er reason, and I bent
My steps towards the rose whose scent1840
Subdued my will.
A careful watch
This while the archer kept to snatch
Fair field against me as I strove
To reach the fragrant flower, whose love
Entranced my soul.
The shaft hight Courtesy Now thirdly flew
The shaft hight Courtesy, which through
My heart pierced once again. Adown
I fell at once in deadly swoon.
Stretched out beneath the sombre shade
An olive tree’s broad branches made.1850
The wound this time was wide and deep.
And when I woke from swooning sleep.
And strove with all my strength and craft
To pluck the weapon forth, the haft,
Alas! was all therefrom I gained.
Fast fixed the jagged barb remained.
Then sitting on the sward upright.
My painful anguish as I might
Brooking, I saw that woe must be
My lot, for this last wound to me1860
Brought new desire to gain the rose.
And yet again the archer chose