a collection of literature from poets, bards, songwriters, and skalds in the SCA

The Dying Shepherd to His Love

Poem (Canso): 

Now hold me, my fair maide, for when I die
Thy face is my gate to eternitie,
Where on thy ruby lip soft will I rest,
And mine heart will embrace thy gentle breast.

This heated breath which swiftly doth escape
My lips, while soul forsaketh mortal shape,
Will come no more beyond this final gasp;
Giving but loose fingers for thee to grasp.

Each man is given but a single sone
Which, after setting low, more light hath none
But only murky night, where see we naught
Of what we wol to be or what we wrought.

To this swear I that twilights shroud is best
For in such darkness is our shame undrest
To only bliss and celebratioun:
We can but feel our sweet salvatioun.

Yet even darkness hath its guiding light,
For sprinkled stars dance on the veil of night
And overlook our gentle land below,
Augmenting that of which pleasure doth glow.

And even now thy starry lamp I see
Reflecting my face and my love for thee;
So smile on me, my dear, and grant me this:
That as I die, I share with thee my bliss.