BALLADE AMOUREUSE.

Not Jason nor Medea wise,

I crave to see, nor win much lore,

Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies;

Nor Her'cles would I see, that o'er

The wide world roamed from shore to shore;

Nor, by St. James, Penelope,—

Nor pure Lucrece, such wrong that bore:

To see my Love suffices me!

Virgil and Cato, no man vies

With them in wealth of clerkly store;

I would not see them with mine eyes;

Nor him that sailed, sans sail nor oar,

Across the barren sea and hoar,

And all for love of his ladye;

Nor pearl nor sapphire takes me more:

To see my Love suffices me!

I heed not Pegasus, that flies

As swift as shafts the bowmen pour;

Nor famed Pygmalion's artifice,

Whereof the like was ne'er before;

Nor Oléus, that drank of yore

The salt wave of the whole great sea:

Why? dost thou ask?‘ T is as I swore

To see my Love suffices me!