VI [3]

I would in that sweet bosom be

(O sweet it is and fair it is!)

Where no rude wind might visit me.

Because of sad austerities

I would in that sweet bosom be.

I would be ever in that heart

(O soft I knock and soft entreat her)

Where only peace might be my part.

Austerities were all the sweeter

So I were ever in that heart.