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Medieval love Stories

medieval love

So gallant is mine own true love,He lives to honor me.My tears do fill mine eyes once moreAs he both plays and sings.He careth not what might befallFrom what adoring brings.Our kisses might be hidden nowBut soon we may be free.This formless dread doth prey uponMy mind that fills with doubt.I look upon his visage proud,His rugged mien so rare.He tells me that he doth approveOf mine own placid air.We know the pain that may...