O lady venus moder of cupyde
That in this world hast the gouernance
And hertes hye that hawteyn be by pryde
Enclynest mekely to thyn obeyssance
Causer of Ioye Relees of penance
And with thy stremes canst euery thing discerÑ
Thurgh heuenly fire of loue that is eterÑ

O blesful sterre persaunt and ful of light
Of beames gladsom, deuoyder of derknes
Chief recomfort after the blak nyght
To wyde woful hertes out of theyr heuynes
Take now good hede lady and goddesse
So that my bille may your grace attayne
Redresse to fynde of that I me compleyne

For I am bounde to thing that I nolde
Frely to chese ther lack I liberte
And so I want of that myn herte wolde
The body is knyt, though my thought be fre
So that I muste of necessite
My hertes lyst outward contrarye
Though we be oon the dede muste varye

My worship sauf I faylle election
Agayn al right both of god and kynde
Therto be knyt vnder subiection
For whens for both ar out of mynde
My thought goth furth my body is behynde
For I am here, and yond my remembrance
Betwene two so hange I in balance

Deuoyde of Ioye, of woo I haue plente
What I desire, that may I not possede
For that I nolde is redy ay to me
And that I loue, for to sue I drede
To my desire contrary is my mede
And thus I stonde departed in tweyne
Of wyll and dede ylaced in a cheyne

For though I brenne with feruence & hete
Withyn myn herte I mote compleyne of colde
And by excesse though I swelte and swete
Me to compleyne god wote I am not bolde
Vnto no wight, ner one word vnfolde
Of al my peyne, allas the hard stounde
The hotter that I brenne, the colder is my wounde

For he that hath myn hert feythfully
And hool my loue in al honeste
Withoute chaunge al be hit secretly
I haue no space with hym for to be
O lady venus consider now and see
Vnto theffecte and compleynt of my byll
Sith lyf and deth I put all in thy wyll

And tho me thought the goddes did enclyne
Mekely her hede and softly gan expresse
That in short tyme her torment shold fyne
And how of hym for whom al her distresse
Contynned had and al her heuynesse
She shold haue Ioye and of her purgatorye
Be holpen sone and so lyue forth in glorye

And said doughter for thy sad trouthe
Thy faithful menyng and Innocence
That planted be with outen ony slouthe
In your persone deuoyed of al offence
So han they atteyned to our audience
That with our grace ye shal be wel releuyd
I you behete of al that hath you greuyd

And for that ye be euer of one entent
Withoute chaunge or mutabilyte
And in your paynes ben so pacient
To take lowly your aduersyte
And that so longe thurgh the cruelte
Of olde saturne my fader vnfortuned
Your woo shal now no lenger be contuned

And thinketh this with in a litil whyle
Hit shal aswage and ouer passen sone
For men by laysir passen many a myle
And ofte after a droppyng mone
The weder clereth, and whan the storme is done
The sonne shyneth in his spyer bright
And Ioye waketh whan woo is putto flight

Remembre eke how neuer yet no wight
Ne cam to worship with out som debate
And folke reioyse also more of light
That they with derknes were waped & mate
No maÑs chaÑce is allewey fortunate
Ne no wight preyseth of sugre the swetnes
But they to fore haue tasted bitternes

Gryssyld was asayed atte full
That torned after to encrese of Ioye
Penolope gan eke for sorowes dulle
For that her lord abode so long at troye
Also the torment ther coude noman accoye
Of dorygene flour of al Bretaigne
Thus euer Ioye is fyn and ende of payne

And trusteth this for conclusion
The ende of sorow is Ioye voyde of drede
For hoolly seyntes thurgh her passion
Haue heuyn wonne by their souerain mede
And plente gladly foloweth after nede
And so my doughter after your greuaunce
I you behote ye shal haue ful plesaunce

For euer of loue the maner and the gyse
Is for to hurte his seruaunt & to wounde
And whan he hath taught them his empryse
He can in Ioye make them to habounde
And sith that ye haue in my laas be bounde
With oute gruoching or rebellyon
Ye muste of night haue consolacion

This to sayne dowteth neuer a deel
That ye shal haue ful possession
Of hym that ye now cherisshe so weel
In honest maner with oute offencion
By cause I knowe youre entencion
Is truly sette in party and in all
To loue hym best and most in speciall

For he that ye haue chosen you to serue
Shal be to you suche as ye desire
With oute chaunge fully til he sterue
So with my bronde I haue sette hym a fyre
And with my grace I shal hym so enspyre
That he in herte shal be right at your wylle
Wherso you liste to saue hym or to spylle

For vnto you I shal his herte so lowe
With oute spotte of ony doblenesse
That he ne shal escape from the bowe
Thaugh that hym self by vnstedfastnesse
I mene of cupide that shal hym so distresse
Vnto your honde with tharowe of golde
That he ne shal escapen thaugh he wolde

And sith ye list of pyte and of grace
In vertu only his yonghthe to cherisshe
I shal by aspectes of my benigne face
Make hym beschewe euery synne and vice
So that he shal haue no maner spice
In his corage to loue thinges newe
He shal to yow so playn be found and trewe

And whan this goodly fair fressh of hue
Humble and benygne of trouth crop & rote
Conceyued had how venus gan to rewe
On her prayer plainly to do bote
To chaunge her bitter attones in to sote
She fyl on knees of high deuocion
And in this wyse began her orison

Hyghest of hye quene and Emperice
Goddesse of loue, of good yet the best
That thurgh your beaute withoute vice
Whylom conquerd thappel atte fest
That Iubiter thurgh his hye request
To alle the goddes aboue celestyal
Made in his palais most Imperyal

To you my lady vpholder of my lyf
Mekely I thanke so as I may suffise
That ye list now with herte ententyf
So graciously for me to deuyse
That whyle I lyue with humble sacrefise
Vpon your auters your fest yer by yer
I shal encence casten in to the fyre

For of your grace I am ful reconsiled
From euery troble vnto ioye and ease
That sorowes alle be from me exiled
Sith ye my lady list now tappease
My paynes olde and fully my disease
Vnto gladnes so sodenly to torne
Hauyng no cause from hens forth to morne

For sithen ye so mekely liste to daunte
To my seruise hym that loueth me best
And of your bounte so graciously to graunte
That he ne shal barye though hym leste
Wherof myn herte is fully brought to reste
For now and euer o lady myn benigne
That hert and will I hooly to you resigne

Thankyng you with al my ful herte
That of your grace and visitacion
So humble liste hym to conuerte
Fully to ben at my subiection
With oute chaunge or transmutacion
Vnto his laste, now laude and reuerence
Be to your name and excellence

This al and sum and chief of my request
And hool substance of my ful entente
You thankyng euer of your graunt & hest
Both now and euer that ye me grace sent
To conquer hym that neuer shal repent
Me for to serue and humblye for to please
As fynal tresour of my hertes ease

And than anon venus cast a doun
In to her lappe braunches whyte and grene
Of hawthorn that wenten enuyron
Aboute her heed that ioye was to sene
And had her kepe hem honestly and clene
Whiche shold not fade ne neuer wexe olde
Yf she her biddyng kepe as she hath told

And as these vowes be bothe fair and swete
Folowe theffecte that they do specifye
This is to seyne both in cold and hete
Be ye of one hert and of one fantasye
As ar these leues whiche may not dye
By no duresse of stormes that be kene
Nomore in wynter than in somer grene

Right so by ensample of wele or woo
For Ioye torment or for aduersite
Whether so fortune fauoure, or be foo
For pouert riches or prosperyte
That ye your hert kepe in on degre
To loue hym best for no thing that ye fyne
Whom I haue bound so low vnder your cheyne

And with that word the goddesse shoke her heed
And was in pees & spack as tho nomore
And therwith all ful femynyn of drede
Me thought this lady sighen gan ful sore
And said agayn, lady that maist restore
Hertes in Ioye from theyr aduersite
To do your wil de mieulx en mieulx ma gree

Thus euer slepyng dremyng as I laye
Withyn the temple me thought I saye
Grete prees of folk with murmur wonderful
To croude and shoue, the temple was so ful
Euerich ful besy, in his owne cause
That I ne may shortly in a clause
Discriuen alle the rites and the guyse
And eke I wante connyng to deuyse
How some ther were with blood, encence & milk
And some with flouris sote & softe as silk
And some with sparowes & douues whyte
That for to offren gan hem delyte
Vnto the goddesse with sighe and prayer
Hem to relese of that they most desire
That for the prees shortly to conclude
I wente my way for the multitude
Me for to refressh out of the prees allone
And by my self me thought as I gan gone
With in the estres and gan a whyle tarye
I sawe a man that walked al solitarye
That as me semed for heuynes and dole
Hym to compleyne, that he walked so sole
With oute espyyng of ony other wight

And yf I shal diseryuen hym a right
Yf that he had not ben in heuynes
Me thought he was, to speke of semelines
Of shap of fourme, and also of stature
The most passing, that euer yet nature
Made in her werkes, and lyke to be a man
And ther with al as I reherce can
Of face and chere the most gracyous
To be biloued happy and ewrous
Bur as it semed outward by his chere
That he complayned for lack of his desire
For by hym self as he walked vp and doun
I herde hym make a lamentacion
And said alas, what thing may this be
That now am bonde that whylom was fre
And wente at large at myn election
Now am I caught vnder subiection
For to become a beray homager
To god of loue, wher er I cam here
Felt in myn herte, nought of loues peyne
But now of newe, within hur firy cheyne
I am embraced so that I may not stryue
To serue and loue whyle I am on lyue

The godly freshe in the temple yonder
I sawe right now, that I had wonder
How euer god, for to rekene all
Might make a thing so celestiall
So angelike on erthe to appere
For with the stremes of her eyen clere
I am wounded euen to the hert
That fro the deth I may not astert
And most I meruayle that so sodeinly
I was so yolde to be at hur mercy
Withoute more, I muste her lust obeye
Whether that she liste me to lyue or deye
And take mekely my sodeyn auenture
For sith my lif, my deth, and eke my cure
Is in her hand it wil not auaylle
To gruoche agayn, for of this bataylle
The palme is heris, and plainly the victorye
Yf I rebellid honour none ne glorye
I might not in ony wyse achyeue
Sith I am theolden, how shold I thenne preue
To renne a wey, I wote hit wil not be
Though I be loos, at large I may not fle
O god of loue how sharp is now thyn arowe

How mayst thou now so cruelly and so narowe
With oute cause hurte me and wounde
And takest none hede my sorowes to founde
But liche a birde that fleeth at her desire
Tyl sodeynly withyn the pantere
She is caught thaugh late she was at large
Anewe tempest forcasteth now my barge
Now vp now doun, with wynd it is so blowe
So am I possed and almost ouerthrowe
For dryue in derknes of many sondry wawe
Alas whan shal this tempest ouerdrawe
To clere the skyes of myn aduersite
The lode sterre whan that I ne may see
Hit is so hid with clowdes that be blake
Alas whan wyll this torment ouerslake
I can not wyte, for who is hurt of newe
And bledeth inward til he wex pale of hue
And hath his wound vnwarly fressh & grene
And hit is not couthe vnto the harmes kene
Of myghty cupyde that can so hertes daunte
That no man may in his warre hym vaunte
To gete a pryce but only by mekenes
For ther ne hayleth stryf ne sturdynes

So may I sayne that with a loke am yolde
And haue no power to stryue thaugh I wolde
Thus stonde I euer betwix lif and deth
To loue and serue whyle I haue breth
In suche a place where I dar not pleyne
Liche hym that is in torment and in peyne
And knoweth not to whom to discure
For ther that I haue holly set my aire
I dar not wel for drede ne for daunger
And for vnknowen tellen how the fyre
Of loues bronde is kyndlid in my breste
Thus am I murdred and slayn atte leste
So priuely withyn my thought
O lady venus whom I haue sought
So wysse me now what me is best to doo
That am distraught with my self so
That I ne wote what way for to torne
Sauf by my self soleyn for to morne
Hangyng in balance betwix hope and drede
With oute comfort remedye or rede
For hope biddeth pursue and assaye
And agaynward drede answerth naye
And now with hope I am set a lofte

But drede and daunger hard & nothyng softe
Hath ouerthrowe my trust and put a doun
Now at my large, now fetred in prisoun
Now in torment, now in souerayn glorye
Now in paradyse and now in purgatorye
As man dispayred in a double were
Born vp with hope, and theÑe anon daunger
Me draweth aback, and saith it shal not be
For where as I of myne aduersite
Am bolde somwhyle mercy to requyre
Thenne cometh dispair & gynneth me to lere
A newe lesson to hope ful the contrary
They be so diuerse they wil do me varye
And thus I stand dismayed in a traunce
For whan that hope were likly me tauaunce
For drede I tremble & dar one word not speke
And yf hit so be, that I not out breke
To telle the harmes that greuen me so sore
But in my self encrece them more and more
And to be slayn fully me delyte
When of my deth she is nothing to wyte
For but yf she my constreynt plainly knewe
How shold she euer, on my peynes rue

Thus oft tyme with hope I am meuyd
To tel her all, how I am greuyd
And to be hardy on me for to take
To axe mercy, but drede doth me theÑe awake
And than wanhop answerth me agayn
That better were than she haue disdayn
To dye attones vnknowe of ony wight
And ther with all biddeth hope anon right
Me, to be bold and prayen her of grace
And fith alle vertues be portreyd in her face
Hit were not sittyng, that pyte were behynde
And right anon withyn my self I fynde
A newe plee brought on me with drede
That me so maseth that I see no spede
Be cause he saith that stonyeth al my blood
I am so symple and she is so good
Thus hope & drede in me wyl not sece
To plete and stryue my harmys to encrece
But at hardest yet or I be dede
Of my distresse sith I can no rede
But stande dom styl as ony stone
To fore the goddesse I wil me haste anoÑ
And compleyne with oute more sermoÑ

Though deth be fyn and ful conclusion
Of my request, yet I wyl assaye
And right anon me thought I saye
This woful man as I haue memorye
Ful lowly entre in to an oratorye
And knelid a doun in ful humble wyse
To fore the goddesse and gan anon deuyse
His pitous quarel with a doleful chere
Sayng right this as ye shall here