"endeth" poems - Hello Poetry

Within the gentle heart abideth Love, As doth a bird within green forest glade, Neither before the gentle heart was Love, Nor Love ere gentle heart by Nature made. Created was the sun, And lo, his radiance everywhere held sway, Nor was before the sun; Love doth unto all gentleness aspire, And in the self-same way Doth clarity unto clear flame of fire. Love’s fire is kindled in the gentle heart, As virtue is within the precious stone; From out the star no glory doth depart Until made gentle by the sun alone. When the sun hath drawn forth By his own strength all that which is not meet, The star doth prove its worth. Thus to the heart, by Nature fashioned so Gentle and pure and sweet, The love of woman like a star doth go. The reason Love in gentle heart doth stay Is why the fire unto the torch-head flies, Burning as he doth fancy, bright and gay, And were too proud to do so otherwise. But Nature’s cruel scheme Contrasteth Love as water, flame; as heat, Quelled by the cooling stream. In gentle heart doth Love his bower divine, Since like with like must meet, Thus diamonds in the iron of the mine. Upon the mire the sun sheds his bright rays, That is still vile, nor doth the sun turn cold: “Gentle am I by birth,” the proud man says. 33 He, mire, and the sun, gentleness, I hold. Let no man think that he May be possessed of gentleness, although He boast a king’s degree, Unless a gentle heart be found in him: The water is aglow With stars, and yet the heavens have not grown dim. God the Creator in heaven’s mind of grace Shines brighter than before our eyes the sun; There it is given to see Him face to face, Whence in their beauty the skies, serving one Just God, to Him do turn And the blest end of primal love fulfil. Thus the truth which doth burn In my sweet Lady’s eyes she should make clear, Of her own gentle will, To him who in her service tarries near. My Lady, God will say: “Didst thou not fear,” (When my soul standeth yonder in His sight:) “To pass the heavens and seek Me even here, Vain love pursuing with My image dight? To Me doth praise belong And to the Queen of Heaven, who from her sphere Of glory endeth wrong.” Then I could plead: “Thy angels up above, O Lord, like her appear; I did not sin in giving her my love.”

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Feb 19, 2016

Feb 19, 2016 at 11:13 PM UTC

williamle8300

Within the Gentle Heart Abideth Love, ***** Guinizelli, 1240-1476

Within the gentle heart abideth Love, As doth a bird within green forest glade, Neither before the gentle heart was Love, Nor Love ere gentle heart by Nature made. Created was the sun, And lo, his radiance everywhere held sway, Nor was before the sun; Love doth unto all gentleness aspire, And in the self-same way Doth clarity unto clear flame of fire. Love’s fire is kindled in the gentle heart, As virtue is within the precious stone; From out the star no glory doth depart Until made gentle by the sun alone. When the sun hath drawn forth By his own strength all that which is not meet, The star doth prove its worth. Thus to the heart, by Nature fashioned so Gentle and pure and sweet, The love of woman like a star doth go. The reason Love in gentle heart doth stay Is why the fire unto the torch-head flies, Burning as he doth fancy, bright and gay, And were too proud to do so otherwise. But Nature’s cruel scheme Contrasteth Love as water, flame; as heat, Quelled by the cooling stream. In gentle heart doth Love his bower divine, Since like with like must meet, Thus diamonds in the iron of the mine. Upon the mire the sun sheds his bright rays, That is still vile, nor doth the sun turn cold: “Gentle am I by birth,” the proud man says. 33 He, mire, and the sun, gentleness, I hold. Let no man think that he May be possessed of gentleness, although He boast a king’s degree, Unless a gentle heart be found in him: The water is aglow With stars, and yet the heavens have not grown dim. God the Creator in heaven’s mind of grace Shines brighter than before our eyes the sun; There it is given to see Him face to face, Whence in their beauty the skies, serving one Just God, to Him do turn And the blest end of primal love fulfil. Thus the truth which doth burn In my sweet Lady’s eyes she should make clear, Of her own gentle will, To him who in her service tarries near. My Lady, God will say: “Didst thou not fear,” (When my soul standeth yonder in His sight:) “To pass the heavens and seek Me even here, Vain love pursuing with My image dight? To Me doth praise belong And to the Queen of Heaven, who from her sphere Of glory endeth wrong.” Then I could plead: “Thy angels up above, O Lord, like her appear; I did not sin in giving her my love.”