It was the day the sun’s rays hid their light
for pity of their maker’s agony.
Lady, your lovely eyes caught hold of me
and I had no defence; they bound me tight.
There seemed no reason, then, to seek relief
from Love’s assault; heedless, I went my way.
Yet I began to suffer, on that day
of public sorrows, my own private grief.
Unarmed Love found me, took me by surprise.
He used, to force a straight way to my heart,
those gates and channels for my tears, my eyes.
He bent his bow to wound me with his dart.
Unchivalrous it was; and to have spared
my lady, who was armoured and prepared.
