Songs of Old France

Song

15th Century

True God of Love my comfort be,
Who has to great distress brought me
For the fair one I may not see
In this flowering season:
Alas! how shall I pass away
This long lingering month of May?

Careless of what might I chance, I rose,
And came into our garden close,
To pluck a rosebud or a rose,
In this flowering season:
Alas! how shall I pass away
This long lingering month of May?

I come into our garden fair,
Three Love-flowers find I there,
One I take and two I spare
In this flowering season:
Alas! how shall I pass away
This long lingering month of May?

I therewith a chaplet knit,
Three ways it escapes my wit;
The fourth way I finish it
In this flowering season:
Alas! how shall I pass away
This long lingering month of May?

Three ways it escapes my wit,
The fourth way I finish it;
So my lady's brow ‘twill fit
In this flowering season:
Alas! how shall I pass away
This long lingering month of May?

So my lady's brow ‘twill fit,
Well I know I'll win for it
From her a kiss exquisite
In this flowering season:
Alas! how shall I pass away
This long lingering month of May?