That joy get I never none,
Now that I see my lady bright,
That I have loved with all my might,
Is from me dead, and is agone.
Alas, Death, what aileth thee,
That thou should'st not have taken me,
When thou took my lady sweet,
That was so fair, so fresh, so free,
So good, that men may well say
Of all goodness she had no meet!
Right on this same, as I have said
Was wholly all my love laid
For certes she was, that sweet wife,
My suffisaunce, my lust, my life,
Mine hap, mine health and all my bless,
My world's welfare and my goddess,
And I wholly hers, and everydel.
most beautifully written, sir geoffrey. I thank you.
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