{
  "meta": {
    "schema_version": "1.1",
    "endpoint": "/api/sources/beguine-mystics/hadewijch-strofische-gedichten/vol-1-04-iv.json"
  },
  "work": {
    "slug": "hadewijch-strofische-gedichten",
    "name": "The Strofische Gedichten (Stanzaic Poems) of Hadewijch"
  },
  "parents": [
    {
      "slug": "beguine-mystics",
      "name": "Beguine Mystics",
      "url": "/sources/beguine-mystics/"
    }
  ],
  "chapter": {
    "num": 5,
    "slug": "vol-1-04-iv",
    "title": "IV",
    "of": 14,
    "words": 380,
    "text": "## IV\n\nNow the time and the birds shall grow sad —<br>\nyet he shall not need it,<br>\nhe who would set himself in truth<br>\nto work in high troth's counsel.<br>\nHe shall please his Beloved with troth —<br>\nthat is the all-richest trust.\n\nHowever it goes with the season,<br>\nhe who walks with works in truth<br>\n— for him are at all hours ready<br>\nblossom, joy, summer, and day.<br>\nHe is at all times new, and from desire hot;<br>\nno more does winter strike him.\n\nHe who in truth gives himself with troth,<br>\nand then with truth lives troth,<br>\n*the hidden word*<sup>6</sup> is spoken to him<br>\nthat no one stranger may understand,<br>\nbut one who has felt it of taste<br>\nand in high rumor has received silence.\n\nAfter lowly stillness, high rumor,<br>\nperfect comfort and an anxious sweetness —<br>\nlet no thanks meet those who fear against this,<br>\nsince it has so great a gain:<br>\nthe noble flower with the fruit —<br>\nunderstand and mark, free noble sense.\n\nAh, noble senses, where have you gone?<br>\nHow can you so lower yourselves —<br>\nyou who have long shown and shone<br>\nas if you ever must live upon troth,<br>\nas if of troth you were ever moved?<br>\nHow can you nourish yourselves on Love?\n\n**Many are called and fairly shown,<br>\nand few chosen** — what help is the fairness?<br>\nThe loose-of-tongue are most of all themselves mocked,<br>\nwhen troth shall pay-all after works,<br>\nand she shall crown all her friends<br>\nwith what she is and shall be.\n\nBut free, noble senses, and well-born,<br>\nboth called and chosen —<br>\nspare neither cost nor pain therein,<br>\nto live in the diligence of high troth.<br>\nYour life let be all holy travail<br>\nuntil you possess your Beloved.\n\nAh hearts, let it not weary you;<br>\nyour many smartings shall soon flower for you.<br>\nYou shall row through every storm<br>\nuntil you come into that splendid land<br>\nwhere Beloved into Beloved shall flow-through-all;<br>\nof which let here noble troth be your pledge.\n\nGod must give the noble Reason<br>\nthat lights up the miserable lives<br>\nthat now are wounded and sorely driven<br>\nunder cruel and strange blows,<br>\nwhen Beloved into Beloved shall be raised up<br>\n— how well, then, it shall please him.\n\n---\n\n## Song V",
    "project_translation": false,
    "text_trust": "verbatim",
    "quote_safe": true,
    "license": null,
    "methodology_url": null
  }
}