Xxvii

And weeping said, Ah my long lacked Lord, Where have ye bene thus long out of my sight? Much feared I to have bene quite abhord, Or ought have done,° that ye displeasen might, That should as death° unto my deare heart light: For since mine eye your joyous sight did mis, My chearefull day is turnd to chearelesse night, And eke my night of death the shadow is; But welcome now my light, and shining lampe of blis.