THE TRUE LOVER by SIMON BOUGOING

GOOD lovers of two hearts make one to be;
In all they think and all they wish unite,
One road they tread, and never disagree,
In what one likes, the other finds delight.
No jealousy e'er comes to cause affright
In perfect love. Because it seeks not ill,
For love is good--the jealous wretched still.

In love, one never doubts the other's truth,
Ne'er contradiction 'twixt the twain is heard;
What the one says, the other takes for sooth,
No grudging 'twixt the two in deed or word.
And the one thinks the other has averred
Only the truth, and would accomplish nought
Of any kind whate'er but what he ought.

And if by chance should come adversity
To her who does his heart with love enchain,
Or if some sickness seize her suddenly,
A deeper love his heart will entertain,
And his own sorrow find in all her pain;
And he will love her more, in verity,
Than he would do in her prosperity.

And if their union death should separate,
He who survives shall ne'er another love,
And never will he choose another mate,
So in his heart his former love is wove.
How hate the friend to whom he lately clove,
Whom with his heart he loved so tenderly?
It is not possible for this to be.

See how the dove this lesson doth avow:
When one of these is left by death forlorn,
She who survives upon a withered bough
Alone will rest, and solitary mourn.
To this her deed all tongues have witness borne;
For so is loving with her nature knit,
That on a living bough she will not sit.

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