Envoy

“This too will pass!” my comfort be alway. Hell is forgot of them that chant on high; Yet have I seen such things no man should say, On this strait bed where I perforce must lie...

Three Rondeaux from Charles d’Orléans.

I.

LE TEMPS A LAISSIÉ SON MANTEAU.

Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall Of biting windes and cold and rain, And well hath dight himself again In sunlight shining cleare on all;

Creatures be none, nor birds, but call One to another their own refrain: Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall Of biting windes and cold and rain.

Fountaines and brooks moste musical Their fayrest dress to wear be fain; With silvern drops and golde, amain, Each newlie decks hymself withall; Ye time hath lefte his mantle fall.

II.