Crève-Cœur
I
I made a supple coat of close link’d mail.1
And gave it to my friend: “This coat,” said I,2
“Whatever evil hand of men may try.3
“Shall never fail.”4
II
I made a little dagger, thin and keen,5
And gave it to my love with many a kiss:6
“Whatever hap,” said I, “honour with this7
“Is safe, Iween”8
III
My friend, alas! my friend, loved my beloved.9
I sought a man’s revenge. My eager blade10
Turned from his heart: the coat that I had made11
Too faithful proved12
IV
My loved one, ah! my loved one, weary grew13
And when I chid her, drawing me apart,14
She seized the dagger meant to guard her heart15
And pierced me through.16