Alas, dear heart! what hope had I
If that I might your grace attain!
And since I love you faithfully,
Why should ye not love me again?

Methinks of right ye should me love,
For well ye know I do not feign,
Nor ever shall ye other prove:
Therfore, sweetheart, love me again.

I dare well say if that ye know
How long that I have suffered pain,
Ye would not change me for no new,
But, even of right, love me again.

For as your own ye may be sure
Ye have my heart still to remain:
It liveth in you me to recure,
Therefore, sweetheart, love me again.

In hope I live, and have done long,
Trusting yet still for to obtain;
And sure, methinks, I have great wrong
If that I be not loved again.