Ballad XII
Christine de Pizan 1364 (Republic of Venice) – 1430 (Poissy)
Ever blessed be the day,
Be the place and be the dwelling,
That hath ended my delay,
Shown the truth I shrank from telling.
Dear friend, behold
My love is yours, a costlier gift than gold :
To Love be praise, that first the bond hath knit,
For I am filled with perfect joy from it.
Since I yielded to thy sway
When thy heart with grief was swelling,
Swiftly speeding as he may
Joy is come, my care dispelling :
Now am I bold
To give thee love, that guerdons manifold
May heal thee from thy sorrow every whit,
For I am filled with perfect joy from it.
So my soul, with God for stay,
The new blissful years foretelling,
Finds in thee, for whom I pray,
Grace and gladness all excelling.
I that of old
Gave thee but sorry cheer and comfort cold,
Am straightway turned to serve thee, as is fit,
For I am filled with perfect joy from it.
When I had told
My love, my heart was yours to have and hold :
To grief I yield not, nor to blame submit,
For I am filled with perfect joy from it.
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 14, 2023
- 58 sec read
- 158 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | abab ccdD ababc cdD abab c cdD c cdD |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 987 |
Words | 195 |
Stanzas | 9 |
Stanza Lengths | 4, 4, 5, 3, 4, 1, 3, 1, 3 |
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