You whom I love in silence, as I must,
Fain had I been in olden tournament
To shiver lances for your eyes' content,
Making full many a baron bite the dust.
Or rather I had been that favoured page
Who trained your hounds and falcons that he might
After you down the valley, o'er the height
Go galloping in eager vassalage.
I might have heard my lord solicit bliss,
And swear to you his vehement promises;
And gone to mass with you at dewy prime;
And in the cool of evenings I, to woo
The smile of your loved lips, had sung to you
The secret love of lovers of old time.
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