What KIND of Courtly? (For what kind of Court?)
Love that's pure? Or love for sport?
Love that's chaste and innocent?
Or earthy lust, for merriment?
(How about one of each?)
THE LONELY LOVER'S LAMENT
Oh, my lady is sweet, and I think she is neat,
And you'd think just the same if you met her:
She's perfection complete, from her head to her feet;
In this world, I could love no-one better.
Yet I sit here and cry, and you may ask me why —
If I love her, then what is the matter?
The trouble is, I am so terribly shy
That I've never quite dared to look at her!
I'm too nervous to speak, and my voice starts to squeak
Every time that I try to talk to her;
But if I weren't meek, she might think it was cheek,
So I haven't the courage to woo her.
How I wish I could be a bold hero so free
Who could bravely and proudly pursue her,
For the passion we'd see would reshape history...
If I weren't so mild and demure!
(and the flip side:)
OF ROSEMARY AND TIME
‘Tis a trick to be quick as a clock that goes tick-tick,
And a gift to be swift (well, SOMEtimes, ye catch my drift?);
But I know to be slow when with lady friend I go,
Spend an hour in her tower, or a soft and shady bower.
For I can kiss a hand, and then be a patient man,
Let her find her own mind, and decide to be so kind
As to grace kiss on face, asking me to please unlace
Garb so tight, dim the light, and regale the merry night
With a song, not too long; and it never would be wrong
To caress her, and bless every shining braided tress;
Does no harm to put arm all around her body warm,
And to sip at her lip, and so lightly stroke her hip,
Kiss her neck, just a peck, and then follow at her beck,
Lay her head on a bed clothed in shiny satin red....
But no more, lest I bore you with too much tale in store;
Brief to say, comes the day, and I must be on my way!
Both © 1994 C. M. Joserlin, “Raven”
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