I am yours with heart and soul,
If it please you, lady, slay me....
Aimeril de Peguilhan is of opinion that the pain of love is no less
sweet than the joy of love:
For he who loves with all his heart would fain
Be sick with love, such rapture is his pain.
And Bernart again:
God keep my lady fair from grief and woe,
I'm close to her, however far I go;
If God will be her shelter and her shield,
Then all my heart's desire is fulfilled.
And:
My mind was erring in a maze,
That hour I was no longer I,
When in your eyes I met my gaze
As in a mirror strange and shy.
Oh, mirror sweet, reflecting me,
Sighing I fell beneath your spell;
I perished in you utterly
As did Narcissus in the well.
In the same poem he goes on to say that he will ask for no reward, but
finally concludes:
My fervent kisses her sweet lips should cover,
For weeks they'd show the traces of her lover.
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