Sweet patroness
Of spirit and strength, and lady of noblesse,
All other comfort doth my heart deride,
For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside.
Most dear princess
Of joy thou art the fount, as I confess:
I thirst no longer, but am satisfied,
For sweeter are thy gifts than all beside.
Ere I parted from this very sweet being, I received an answer to my ballad, the which gave me more than a little very ardent rapture, for the enchanting fair one, whilst reading it, put her arms about my neck. And here it is:—
BALLAD
Ever blessed be the day,
Be the place and be the dwelling,
That hath ended my delay,
Shown the truth I shrank from telling.
Dear friend, behold
My love is yours, a costlier gift than gold:
To Love be praise, that first the bond hath knit,
For I am filled with perfect joy from it.
Since I yielded to thy sway
When thy heart with grief was swelling,
Swiftly speeding as he may
Joy is come, my care dispelling:
