IV
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ove that is born of Time and comes and goes!Love that doth hold all noble hearts in fief!As red leaves follow where the wind hath flown,So all men follow Love when Love is dead.O Fate of Wind! O Wind that cannot spare,But drivest out the Maid, and pourest leesOf all thy crimson on the wold again, V Korè my heart is, let it stand sans gloze!Love's pain is long, and lo, love's joy is brief!My heart erst alway sweet is bitter grown;As crimson ruleth in the good green's stead,So grief hath taken all mine old joy's shareAnd driven forth my solace and all easeWhere pleasure bows to all-usurping pain.
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