Ballad Ii Poem by Christine de Pizan

Love, I had not ever thought
Thou would'st bid thy servant share
Grief to which all else is naught,
Grief whereunder I despair :
Thus unfaltering I declare
That in death I pass away
If thy saving grace delay.

In a burning passion caught
I grow faint, and may not bear
All the torment it hath wrought :
Thine the fault, be thine the care !
Loose me from this evil snare !
Other help is none to pray,
If thy saving grace delay.

Rather had I death besought,
(So without deceit I swear),
Since my heart is all distraught
With thy flame enkindled there.
Murmuring is not mine to dare :
I must perish as I may,
If thy saving grace delay.

Love, with gladness meet my prayer,
Cleanse my soul and make it fair,
Since in sorrow I must stay
If thy saving grace delay.