The complete works of Geoffrey Chaucer Edited, from numerous manuscripts by the Rev. Walter W. Skeat |
 | I. |
|
| A. |
| B. |
| C. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
|
| VI. |
| VII. |
|
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
|
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
|
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| III. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| I. |
| II. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| IV. |
| A. |
| B. |
|
| C. |
| D. |
|
| E. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| F. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| G. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| H. |
| I. |
 | The complete works of Geoffrey Chaucer |  |
‘Which a visage had she ther-to!
Allas! myn herte is wonder wo
That I ne can discryven hit!
Me lakketh bothe English and wit
For to undo hit at the fulle;
And eek my spirits be so dulle
So greet a thing for to devyse.
I have no wit that can suffyse
To comprehenden hir beaute;
But thus moche dar I seyn, that she
Was rody, fresh, and lyvely hewed;
And every day hir beaute newed.
And negh hir face was alder-best;
For certes, Nature had swich lest
To make that fair, that trewly she
Was hir cheef patron of beautee,
And cheef ensample of al hir werke,
And moustre; for, be hit never so derke,
Me thinketh I see hir ever-mo.
And yet more-over, thogh alle tho
That ever lived were now a-lyve,
[They] ne sholde have founde to discryve
In al hir face a wikked signe;
For hit was sad, simple, and benigne.
Allas! myn herte is wonder wo
That I ne can discryven hit!
Me lakketh bothe English and wit
For to undo hit at the fulle;
And eek my spirits be so dulle
So greet a thing for to devyse.
I have no wit that can suffyse
To comprehenden hir beaute;
But thus moche dar I seyn, that she
Was rody, fresh, and lyvely hewed;
And every day hir beaute newed.
308
For certes, Nature had swich lest
To make that fair, that trewly she
Was hir cheef patron of beautee,
And cheef ensample of al hir werke,
And moustre; for, be hit never so derke,
Me thinketh I see hir ever-mo.
And yet more-over, thogh alle tho
That ever lived were now a-lyve,
[They] ne sholde have founde to discryve
In al hir face a wikked signe;
For hit was sad, simple, and benigne.
| The complete works of Geoffrey Chaucer | |