Peire Rogier: 

     Mine is her smile and mine her jest,
     And foolish were I more to ask
     And not to think me wholly blest. 
     ’Tis no deceit,
     To gaze at her is all I need,
     The sight of her is my reward.

Gaucelm Faidit: 

     Of all the ways of love I chose the best,
     I love you, love, with ardour infinite,
     Yours is my life, do as you will with it. 
     Nor kiss I ask, nor sweet embraces, lest
     I were blaspheming....

The most enthusiastic champions of pure love were Montanhagol, Sordello and Guirot Riqiuer.  The former maintained that a lover who asked for favours incompatible with his lady’s honour, neither loved her nor deserved to be loved.—­“Love begets purity, and he who knows the meaning of love can never forsake virtue.”

There is a controversy between Peire Guillem of Toulouse and Sordello, which contains the following passages: 

     Of all mankind I never saw
     A man like you, Sordell’, I wis,
     For he who woman does adore
     Will never flout her love and kiss. 
     And what to others is a prize
     You surely don’t mean to despise?

     Honour and joy I crave from her,
     And if a little rose she bind
     Into the wreath, Sir Guillem Peire,
     From mercy, not from duty, mind,
     That would be happiness indeed,
     Oh! that such bliss should be my meed!

     A humble lover such as you,
     Sordell’, in faith, I never knew.

     Sir Peire, methinks what you express
     Is lacking much in seemliness.

In another poem the talented Sordello says: 

     My love for her is so profound
     I’d serve her, spurn and scorn despite
     Ere with another I’d be found—­
     Yet I’d not serve without requite,

and in another, after stating that he loves his lady so much that he would thank her even if she killed him, he continues: 

     Thus, lady, I commend to thee
     My fate and life, thy faithful squire
     I’d rather die in misery
     Than have thee stoop to my desire.

     The knight who truly loves his dame
     Not only loves her comely face,
     Dearer to him is her fair fame
     Undimmed, unsullied by disgrace.

     How grievously I should offend
     Thy virtue, if I spoke of passion;
     But if I did—­which God forfend! 
     Sweet lady, stoop not to compassion.

Although Sordello appeared so extremely modest, yet he was grieved to death because his lady did not return his love.  There is a poem in which he compares himself to a drowning man whom the beloved alone could save.

This spiritual love (then as now) puzzled the commonplace, and was misunderstood and regarded with scepticism.  Bertran d’Alaman taunted Sordello with his “hypocritical happiness” and “the whole deception of his love,” and Granet, in a satirical poem, cast doubt upon his sincerity.