E quant la douce ore vente
Qui vient de cel douz païs
Ou cil est qui m'atalente,
Volontiers i tor mon vis:
Adont m'est vis que jel sente
Par desoz mon mantel gris.
Dex, etc.
"I will sing for my heart which I will comfort, for in spite of my great loss I do not wish to die, and yet I see no one return from the wild land where he is who calms my heart when I hear mention of him. God! when they cry Outre (a pilgrim marching cry), Lord help the pilgrim for whom I tremble, for wicked are the Saracens.
"From this fact have I confidence, that I have received his vows and when the gentle breeze blows which comes from the sweet country where he is whom I desire, readily do I turn my face thither: then I think I feel him beneath my grey mantle."
The idea in the second stanza quoted is borrowed from Bernard de Ventadour—