That lasteth aye withouten end.
Bid we God, and our Lady, to this bliss
Jesus us send. Amen.
EARL pleasant to prince's paye
To cleanly close in gold so clear,
Out of Orient, I hardily say,
Ne proved I never her precious peer;
So round, so reken 2 in each array,
So small, so smooth her sides were,
Wheresoever I judged gems gay,
I set her sengely in singular.
Alas! I lost her in an arbour,
Through grass to ground it from me got,
I pine for-dolked of love danger
Of that proud pearl withouten spot.
Since, in that spot it from me sprang,
Oft have I waited; wishing that weal,
That wont was, will devoyde my wrong,
And heaven my happeR and all my hele,'
That does bot through my heart throng,
My breast in bale9 bot bolne1 and bele 2.
Yet thought me never so sweet a song,
As secret sorrow let to me steal;
Forsooth there fleeted to me fele,3
To think her colour so clad in clod;
O mould thou mars a merry mele ; *
My privy pearl withouten spot.
That spot of spices must needs spread,
There such riches to rot is run,
Blooms, yellow, and blue, and red,
There shines full bright against the sun;
Flower and fruit may not be-fede"
Where it down drove in moulds dun;
For each grass must grow of grains dead,
No wheat were else to wones" won,
Of good each good is aye begun.
So seemly a seed must fail not,
That springing spices up ne sponne
Of that precious pearl withouten spot.
To that spot that I in speech expound
I entered, in that arbour green,
In August, in a hot season,
When corn is carven with crooks keen.
While there pearl it trendled' down
Shadowed these worts, full bright and sheen,'
Gilliflower, ginger, and gromyloun,
And peonies powdered aye between ;
If it was seemly but to see
A fair reflayr2 set from it afloat;
There wones that, worthily I wot and ween,
My precious pearl withouten spot.
Before that spot my hands I spenned *
For care full cold that to me cast,
A denely dole in my heart dinned,
Though reason set myselven sazt ;
I plained my pearl that there was spenned;'
With fearful doubts, that fast fought,
Though kind of Christ me comfort kenned,
My wretched will in woe aye wrought.
I fell upon that flowery flat,
Such odour to my harns' shot,
I slode upon a sleeping-stroke,
On that precious pearl withouten spot.
From spot my spirit there sprang in space,
My body on bank there 'bode in sweven,
My ghost is gone in God's grace
In adventure there 1 marvels moven;2
I ne wist in this world where that it was,
But I knew me cast where cliffs cleven.
Toward a forest I bare the face,
Where rich rocks were to dyscreven ;
The light of them might no man beleven,
The gleaming glory that off them glent,
For were never webs, that wights weaven,
Of half so dear adornment:
Dubbed were all they down sides
With crystal cliffs so clear of kind;
Holt-woods bright about them bides,
Of boles as blue as ble 5 of Ind;
As burnished silver the leaf on slides
That thick can twirl on each tynde,"
When gleam of glades against them glides,
With shimmering sheen full schrylle' they shined; The gravel that on ground can grind
Were precious pearls of orient,
The sun beams but bloR and blynde
In respect of that adornment.
The adornment of those downs dear
Garred my ghost all grief forget;
So fresh flavours of fruits were,
As food it can me fair refresh ;
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