 | The Harley Lyrics |  |
30 THE MAN IN THE MOON
Mon in þe mone stond ant strit,
on is bot-forke is burþen he bereþ;
hit is muche wonder þat he nadoun slyt,
for doute leste he valle he shoddreþ ant shereþ.
When þe forst freseþ muche chele he byd;
þe þornes beþ kene, is hattren to-tereþ.
Nis no wyht in þe world þat wot when he syt,
ne, bote hit bue þe hegge, whet wedes he wereþ.
on is bot-forke is burþen he bereþ;
hit is muche wonder þat he nadoun slyt,
for doute leste he valle he shoddreþ ant shereþ.
When þe forst freseþ muche chele he byd;
þe þornes beþ kene, is hattren to-tereþ.
Nis no wyht in þe world þat wot when he syt,
ne, bote hit bue þe hegge, whet wedes he wereþ.
Whider trowe þis mon ha þe wey take?
He haþ set is o fot is oþer toforen.
ffor non hihte þat he haþ ne syht me hym ner shake,
he is þe sloweste mon þat euer wes yboren.
Wher he were o þe feld pycchynde stake,
for hope of ys þornes to dutten is doren,
he mot myd is twybyl oþer trous make
oþer al is dayes werk þer were yloren.
He haþ set is o fot is oþer toforen.
ffor non hihte þat he haþ ne syht me hym ner shake,
he is þe sloweste mon þat euer wes yboren.
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for hope of ys þornes to dutten is doren,
he mot myd is twybyl oþer trous make
oþer al is dayes werk þer were yloren.
Þis ilke mon vpon heh whener he were,
wher he were y þe mone boren ant yfed,
he leneþ on is forke ase a grey frere;
þis crokede caynard sore he is adred.
Hit is mony day go þat he was here;
ichot of is ernde he naþ nout ysped.
He haþ hewe sumwher a burþen of brere,
þarefore sum hayward haþ taken ys wed.
wher he were y þe mone boren ant yfed,
he leneþ on is forke ase a grey frere;
þis crokede caynard sore he is adred.
Hit is mony day go þat he was here;
ichot of is ernde he naþ nout ysped.
He haþ hewe sumwher a burþen of brere,
þarefore sum hayward haþ taken ys wed.
Ȝef þy wed ys ytake, bring hom þe trous,
sete forþ þyn oþer fot, stryd ouer sty.
We shule preye þe haywart hom to vr hous
ant maken hym at heyse for þe maystry,
drynke to hym deorly of fol god bous,
ant oure dame douse shal sitten hym by.
When þat he is dronke ase a dreynt mous,
þenne we schule borewe þe wed ate bayly.
sete forþ þyn oþer fot, stryd ouer sty.
We shule preye þe haywart hom to vr hous
ant maken hym at heyse for þe maystry,
drynke to hym deorly of fol god bous,
ant oure dame douse shal sitten hym by.
When þat he is dronke ase a dreynt mous,
þenne we schule borewe þe wed ate bayly.
Þis mon hereþ me nout þah ich to hym crye;
ichot þe cherl is def, þe Del hym to-drawe!
Þah ich ȝeȝe vpon heh nulle nout hye,
þe lostlase ladde con nout o lawe.
Hupe forþ, Hubert, hosede pye!
Ichot þart amarscled into þe mawe.
Þah me teone wiþ hym þat myn teþ mye,
þe cherl nul nout adoun er þe day dawe.
ichot þe cherl is def, þe Del hym to-drawe!
Þah ich ȝeȝe vpon heh nulle nout hye,
þe lostlase ladde con nout o lawe.
Hupe forþ, Hubert, hosede pye!
Ichot þart amarscled into þe mawe.
Þah me teone wiþ hym þat myn teþ mye,
þe cherl nul nout adoun er þe day dawe.
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