The Rowley Poems Part 25

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O! lyche a nedere, lette me rounde thee twyne, And hylte thie boddie from the schaftes of warre.

Thou shalte nott, must not, from thie Birtha ryne, Botte kenn the dynne of slughornes from afarre. 255

aeLLA.

O love, was thys thie joie, to shewe the treate, Than groffyshe to forbydde thie hongered guestes to eate?

O mie upswalynge[51] harte, whatt wordes can saie The peynes, thatte pa.s.sethe ynn mie soule ybrente?



Thos to bee torne uponne mie spousalle daie, 260 O! 'tys a peyne beyond entendemente.

Yee mychtie G.o.ddes, and is yor favoures sente As thous faste dented to a loade of peyne?

Moste wee aie holde yn chace the shade content.

And for a bodykyn[52] a swarthe obteyne? 265 O! whie, yee seynctes, oppress yee thos mie fowle?

How shalle I speke mie woe, mie freme, mie dreerie dole?

CELMONDE.

Sometyme the wyseste lacketh pore mans rede.

Reasonne and counynge wytte efte flees awaie.

Thanne, loverde, lett me saie, wyth hommaged drede (Bieneth your fote ylayn) mie counselle saie; 271 Gyff thos wee lett the matter lethlen[53] laie, The foemenn, everych honde-poyncte, getteth fote.

Mie loverde, lett the speere-menne, dyghte for fraie, And all the sabbataners goe aboute. 275 I speke, mie loverde, alleyne to upryse Youre wytte from marvelle, and the warriour to alyse.

aeLLA.

Ah! nowe thou pottest takells[54] yn mie harte; Mie soulghe dothe nowe begynne to see herselle; I wylle upryse mie myghte, and doe mie parte, 280 To flea the foemenne yn mie furie felle.

Botte howe canne tynge mie rampynge fourie telle.

Whyche ryseth from mie love to Birtha fayre?

Ne coulde the queede, and alle the myghte of h.e.l.le, Founde out impleasaunce of syke blacke a geare. 285 Yette I wylle bee mieselfe, and rouze mie spryte To acte wythe rennome, and goe meet the bloddie fyghte.

BIRTHA.

No, thou schalte never leave thie Birtha's syde; Ne schall the wynde uponne us blowe alleyne; I, lyche a nedre, wylle untoe thee byde; 290 Tyde lyfe, tyde deathe, ytte shall behoulde us twayne.

I have mie parte of drierie dole and peyne; Itte brasteth from mee atte the holtred eyne; Ynne tydes of teares mie swarthynge spryte wyll drayne, Gyff drerie dole ys thyne, tys twa tymes myne. 295 Goe notte, aella; wythe thie Birtha staie; For wyth thie femmlykeed mie spryte wyll goe awaie.

aeLLA.

O! tys for thee, for thee alleyne I fele; Yett I muste bee mieselfe; with valoures gear I'lle dyghte mie hearte, and notte mie lymbes yn stele, 300 And shake the bloddie swerde and steyned spere.

BIRTHA.

Can aella from hys breaste hys Birtha teare?

Is shee so rou and ugsomme[55] to hys fyghte?

Entrykeynge wyght! ys leathall warre so deare?

Thou pryzest mee belowe the joies of fyghte. 305 Thou scalte notte leave mee, albeytte the erthe Hong pendaunte bie thie swerde, and craved for thy morthe.

aeLLA.

Dyddest thou kenne howe mie woes, as starres ybrente, Headed bie these thie wordes doe onn mee falle, Thou woulde stryve to gyve mie harte contente, 310 Wakyng mie slepynge mynde to honnoures calle.

Of selynesse I pryze thee moe yan all Heaven can mee sende, or counynge wytt acquyre, Yette I wylle leave thee, onne the foe to falle, Retournynge to thie eyne with double fyre. 315

BIRTHA.

Moste Birtha boon requeste and bee denyd?

Receyve attenes a darte yn selynesse and pryde?

Doe staie, att leaste tylle morrowes sonne apperes.

aeLLA.

Thou kenneste welle the Dacyannes myttee powere; Wythe them a mynnute wurchethe bane for yeares; 320 Theie undoe reaulmes wythyn a syngle hower.

Rouze all thie honnoure, Birtha; look attoure Thie bledeynge countrie, whych for hastie dede Calls, for the rodeynge of some doughtie power, To royn yttes royners, make yttes foemenne blede. 325

BIRTHA.

Rouze all thie love; false and entrykyng wyghte!

Ne leave thie Birtha thos uponne pretence of fyghte.

Thou nedest notte goe, untyll thou haste command Under the sygnette of oure lorde the kynge.

aeLLA.

And wouldest thou make me then a recreande? 330 Hollie Seyncte Marie, keepe mee from the thynge!

Heere, Birtha, thou hast potte a double stynge, One for thie love, anodher for thie mynde.

BIRTHA.

Agylted[56] aella, thie abredynge[57] blynge[58].

Twas love of thee thatte foule intente ywrynde. 335 Yette heare mie supplycate, to mee attende, Hear from mie groted[59] harte the lover and the friende.

Lett Celmonde yn thie armour-brace be dyghte; And yn thie stead unto the battle goe; Thie name alleyne wylle putte the Danes to flyghte, 340 The ayre thatt beares ytt woulde presse downe the foe.

aeLLA.

Birtha, yn vayne thou wouldste mee recreand doe; I moste, I wylle, fyghte for mie countries wele, And leave thee for ytt. Celmonde, sweftlie goe, Telle mie Brystowans to bedyghte yn stele; 345 Tell hem I scorne to kenne hem from afar, Botte leave the vyrgyn brydall bedde for bedde of warre.

aeLLA, BIRTHA.

BIRTHA.

And thou wylt goe; O mie agroted harte!

aeLLA.

Mie countrie waites mie marche; I muste awaie; Albeytte I schulde goe to mete the darte 350 Of certen Dethe, yette here I woulde notte staie.

Botte thos to leave thee, Birtha, dothe a.s.swaie Moe torturynge peynes yanne canne be sedde bie tyngue, Yette rouze thie honoure uppe, and wayte the daie, Whan rounde aboute mee songe of warre heie synge. 355 O Birtha, strev mie agreeme[60] to accaie[61], And joyous see mie armes, dyghte oute ynn warre arraie.

BIRTHA.

Difficile[62] ys the pennaunce, yette I'lle strev To keepe mie woe behyltren yn mie breaste.

The Rowley Poems Part 25

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The Rowley Poems Part 25 summary

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