Songs of Old France

Rondel

Alain Chartier

1386–1458(?)

Thanks be to God, I live always
Whatever sorrows be my share,
Good will doth succour yet dull care.
But I have passed my brightest days
Without the aid that grief allays:
Gently the bygone years I bear,

Thanks be to God.

With me no more Love's fancy plays,
Henceforth those weary moans I spare:
I leave it all, turn otherwhere,
For as for me, run is my race,

Thanks be to God.