The Falcon

Full often hath it grieved me and brought my heart sore pain,
That what I ever longed for I never yet could gain
Nor e'er may hope to win it; a hapless case is this;
Yet I mean not gold nor silver; of mortal shape and look it is.

To rear me up a falcon more than a year I spent.
When I at length had tamed him all to my content
And fairly in his feathers had twisted golden strands,
Up in the air he mounted and flew away to other lands.

Since then I saw my falcon, and fairly did he soar;
Thongs of silken riband on his feet he bore,
And bright were all his feathers, golden-red to see.
May God send those together, whoso fond lovers fain would be!