In Praise of His Lady by Matthew Grove

Like as the Bay, that bears on branches sweet
The Laurel leaf that lasteth alway green,
To change his hue for weather, dry or weet,
Or else to lose his leaf, is seldom seen;
So doth my dear for aye continue still,
As faithful as the loving turtle-dove,
Rewarding me according to my will
With faithful heart for my most trusty love.
And sith the time that we our love began,
Most trusty she yet hath endurëd aye,
And changeth not for any other man;
So constant she of faith in heart doth stay.
Wherefore unto that tree I her compare,
That never loseth leaf, no more doth she
Lose triëd truth, however that she fare,
But always one by love in heart to me.
Then boast I on this branch of Bays most pure,
Sith that so sweet I find it at my heart,
And love while that my life shall aye endure,
And till that death our bodies two shall part.

From: http://www.poetrynook.com/poem/praise-his-lady-1

Date: 1587

By: Matthew Grove (fl. 1587)

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