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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
QUIA AMORE LANGUEO, by ANONYMOUS First Line: "as thro' a vale, in restless mind" Last Line: Death bringeth thee thy meed alway - / quia amore langueo!' | |||
AS thro' a vale, in restless mind, I sought by mountain and by mead, A true-love for my need to find, Unto a hill then took I heed; A voice I heard -- (there did I speed --) That spake in dolour and in woe: "Behold My Sides, how sore they bleed! Quia Amore langueo!" Upon this hill I saw a tree, Beneath, there sat a Man alone, Wounded from Head to Foot was He, I saw His Heart's Blood run adown. Well fitted He to wear a Crown, Such gracious mien He sure did show; I asked His grief, He spake anon: "Quia Amore langueo! "I am True Love, that false was ne'er, I loved Man's Soul, my sister, so, That, eager all with her to share, Forth from My Kingdom did I go; I wrought for her a palace fair -- She fled, I followed, loving so That I this piteous pain did bear -- Quia Amore langueo! "My fair Love, and My Spouse so bright From stripes I saved; she smote Me sore; Her robe I wrought of Grace and Light, Behold My Vesture crimsoned o'er! And yet love-longing waxed the more -- Sweet are the stripes I bare, and lo! The troth I pledged I ne'er forswore -- Quia Amore langueo! "Of Bliss her crown, and Mine of Thorn; The Bower her portion, Mine the Tree; Worship I brought her, she, but Scorn; Honour I gave, she, Villanie. Love paid for Love is easy fee, Her Hate ne'er made my Love her foe; Ask Me no more why this should be -- Quia Amore langueo! "Look well upon My Hands, O man! These Gloves as gift from her were brought, They be not white, but red, and wan, Blood's broiderie My Spouse hath wrought! I doff them not, nor loose for aught, They woo her still where'er she go, These Hands for her so friendly fought -- Quia Amore langueo! "Marvel not, man, tho' I sit still; See, Love hath shod Me wondrous strait, Buckled My Feet, as was her will, With sharpest Nails -- (Thou well may'st wait!) My Love thereof made no debate, My Members would I open throw, My Body, to her heart as mate -- Quia Amore langueo! "Within My Side I made her nest, Look in, how wet a Wound is here! Here as in chamber may she rest, Together shall we slumber here. Here may she wash her white and clear, Here is the charm for all her woe, Come when she will she shall have cheer -- Quia Amore langueo! "Lo! I abide and wait her will, I'll sue the more she sayeth Nay; If ruthless she, I'll press her still; If dangerous, I will her pray. But if she weep, with no delay Mine arms out-spread I'll round her throw, Cry once, 'I come!' Now, Soul, assay! Quia Amore langueo! "Set on a hill, as watch-tower high, I watch the vale, my spouse to see, She runs away, yet cometh nigh, Out of My sight she may not flee. Some wait their prey, to make her flee, I run before, and chase her foe, Return my spouse again to me, Quia Amore langueo! "Behold! my Love, let us go play; My garden beareth apples fine, I shall thee clothe in rich array, Feed thee with honey, milk, and wine -- Behold! My Love, let us go dine -- Within My scrip thy food is -- Lo! Tarry thou not fair Spouse of Mine -- Quia Amore langueo! "If thou be foul, I'll cleanse the stain; If thou be sick, I will thee heal; Comfort thee if thou should'st complain; Fair Love, dost fear with Me to deal? Foundest thou ever love so leal? What wilt thou, Soul, that I shall do? With force I may not make appeal -- Quia Amore langueo! "What shall I do now with My Spouse But wait her will with gentleness Till she look forth from out her house Of Worldly Love? Yet Mine she is -- Her couch is made, her pillow bliss, Her chamber chosen -- Since 't is so, Look on me, Love, in kindliness -- Quia Amore langueo! "My Love is in her chamber, peace! Make ye no noise, but let her sleep, Vex not of this, My Babe, the ease, I were full loth My Child should weep! Nay, on My Breast I will her keep -- Marvel not tho' I tend her so -- My Side had ne'er been pierced so deep Save, Quia Amore langueo! "Nay, would'st thou set thy love on high? My Love is more than thine may be; In joy, in sorrow, I am nigh, Would'st thou but once, Love, look on Me! I would not that thy food should be But children's meat, nay, Love, not so! I'll prove thee with adversitie, Quia Amore langueo! "Nay, wax not weary, Mine own Wife, 'T were ill to live at ease alway, In tribulation and in strife I reign with but the surer sway. In Weal and Woe I am thy stay, Mine own Wife, bide, nor from Me go, Death bringeth thee thy meed alway -- Quia Amore langueo!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |
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