ANONYMOUS

I am true love that false was never ; My sister, man's soul, I loved her thus. Because we would in no wise dissever I left my kingdom glorious. I purveyed her a palace full precious ; She fled, I followed, I loved her so That I suffered this pain piteous Quia amore langueo.

My fair love and my spouse bright ! I saved her from beating, and she hath me bet ; I clothed her in grace and heavenly light ; This bloody shirt she hath on me set ; For longing of love yet would I not let ; Sweete strokes are these : lo ! I have loved her ever as I her het Quia amore langueo.

I crowned her with bliss and she me with thorn ; I led her to chamber and she me to die ; I brought her to worship and she me to scorn ; I did her reverence and she me villany. To love that loveth is no maistry ; Her hate made never my love her foe: Ask me then no question why Quia amore langueo.

Look unto mine handes, man ! These gloves were given me when I her sought; They be not white, but red and wan ; Embroidered with blood my spouse them brought. They will not off; I loose hem nought i

��het] promised.

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