Now am I in a stronge land, waiward sent
Poem (Canso):
Now am I in a stronge land, waiward sent,
I haue naught but my cote and loue.
The stars aboue bring only sad lament:
Stil homeward on the roade I moue.
How I recal the spring, when with the dawn
Well had we of pleasure our fille.
Now am I cast despairing on a lawn,
Had I your eye, for naught I wille.
Fondly do I think on your gentle kisse,
Which I hope to giue you in kinde.
I pray you euer think of me with blisse
And visit me in dreaming minde.