Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A LOVE PLAYNT, by GODFREY TURNER



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A LOVE PLAYNT, by            
First Line: To yow, my purse, and to noon other wighte
Last Line: Beethe hevy ageyne, or elles mote I die!
Subject(s): Love; Money


TO yow, my Purse, and to noon other wighte,
Complayne I, for ye be my lady dere!
I am so sorry now that ye been lyghte,
For, certes, yf ye make me hevy chere,
Me were as leef be layde upon my beere.
For whiche unto your mercie thus I crye,
Beethe hevy ageyne, or elles mote I die!

Now voucheth sauf this day, or hyt be nighte,
That I of yow the blissful soun may here,
Or see your colour lyke the sunne brighte,
That of yellownesse hadde never pere.
Ye be my lyf! ye be myn herty's stere!
Quene of comfort and good companye!
Beethe hevy ageyne, or elles mote I die!

Now, Purse! that ben to me my lyve's lyghte,
And surety as doune in this world here,
Out of this toune helpe me through your myghte,
Syn that you wole not bene my tresorere;
For I am shave as nigh as is a frere.
But I pray unto your curtesye,
Beethe hevy ageyne, or elles mote I die!





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