Alderlievest

Great king of England, and my gracious lord, / The mutual conference that my mind hath had / By day, by night, waking, and in my dreams, / In courtly company, or at my beads, / With you mine alderlievest sovereign, / Makes me the bolder to salute my king / With ruder terms, such as my wit affords, / And over-joy of heart doth minister.

“And at the corner in the yonder house / Heard I mine alderlievest lady dear / So womanly with voice melodious / Singen so well, so goodly and so clear, / That in my soul yet me thinketh I hear / The blissful sound; and in that yonder place / My lady first me took into her grace.”

Thou hast been spared! Oh, joyful thought, beyond all joy to me! / Again my eager voice I raise,— / My alderlievest! My very own! And, kneeling near thee, / Henceforth I hymn my Maker’s praise!

“Alderlievest!”—Love flatters not! / In the green lemon-wood, / I saw you first. It matters not! / I saw you, loved you and forgot / To call you goddess. Good! / I deemed it no offense, / To task my mother-sense, / In making love to womanhood.

And to mine Alderlievest Lorde I must endite / A wofull case, a chippe of sorie chaunce, / A tipe of heaven, a lively hew of hell, / A feare to fall, a hope of high advance, / A life, a death, a drearie tale to tell.