Time's Coin

Whoso were minded to grow old in pain
Were best to buy the years that I spend here,
For each and all have brought me little gain.
I'd gladly give for one of better cheer
Three such as they, their might so much I fear;
And needs I must; what course can yet remain,
When one for faithful service pays so dear?

If aught of more avail I now might find
To ease the lasting sorrows of my breast
Than constant service, with a willing mind
I'd set to work and show no lack of zest.
If aught it helped me, fain would I protest
That he who for one lady's sake resigned
All others, ought to win his love's request.

Still by the Rhine that lady might I see
By whom my heart is wounded deep and sore,
Far deeper than a man would mark in me.
......
Might she but learn my sorrow, I implore!
As Damas is to Saladin, so she
Is dear to me, aye, and I ween far more!