Classic Poem

CCLI

I might by no means surmise
My fantasy to resist,
But after the old guise
To love her I did list.
And though it must suffice
That again I shall have none,
Yet can I not devise
To get again mine own.

It is my heart that I have lost.
God send it me again.
I should it have whatever it cost
Or else I am but slain.

I study day and night
And loud I cry and call
To be delivered quite
From her that I am thrall.
And yet against all right
Of force I must still moan
For it doth pass my might
To get again mine own.

It is my heart that I have lost.
God send it me again.
I should it have whatever it cost
Or else I am but slain.

In torments I am torn
That no rest find I can,
None so unhappy born
Since that the world began.
I ask for but such corn
And such seed that was sown;
And though I that have sworn,
I cannot get mine own.

It is my heart that I have lost.
God send it me again.
I should it have whatever it cost
Or else I am but slain.

But seeing that I cannot
Attain my true desire
Nor by no means may not
Creep out of the fire,
[And know that you intend not]
To give aught of your own
By reason that you should not —
Let me to have mine own.

It is my heart that I have lost.
God send it me again.
I should it have whatever it cost
Or else I am but slain.