War and Love/An Old Song
For works with similar titles, see An Old Song.
AN OLD SONG
I have no lust nor care To sing of Mary,I praise the quaint sweet air Of a mortal lady.
She is not clothed in sad Raiment like MaryBut in cloth and silk that is glad And fully seemly.
Her eyes are not tear-rimmed Like those of Mary,Only with love are they dimmed When she kisses me.
By God, though she be God's mother, I care not for Mary,Only to serve this other That is so dear to me.
Therefore, sweet friends, I know, By the splendour of Mary,Into uttermost hell shall I go For sweet sin with this lady.