The Minor Poems of John Lydgate :: :: University of Virginia Library

In Feuerier, whan the frosty moone,
Was horned ful of Phebus firy lyght,
And that she gan to reyse her streames sone,
Saynt Valentyne, vpon thy blisful nyght
Of dewetee, whan glad is euery wight,
And foules chese, to voyde her olde sorowe,
Eueryche his make, vpon the next[e] morowe;

411

2

The same tyme, I herde a larke synge
Ful lustely, agayne the morowe gray:
“Awake, ye louers, out of your slombringe,
This glad[e] morowe, in al the haste ye may;
Some obseruaunce dothe vnto this day,
Your choyse ayen of herte to renewe,
In confyrmyng for euer to be trewe.

3

“And ye that be, of chosyng, at your large
This lusty day, by custome of nature,
Take vpon you the blisful holy charge
To serue Loue, whyle your lyfe may dure,
With herte, body, and al your besy cure,
For euermore, as Venus and Cipride
For you disposeth, and the god Cupyde.

4

“For ioye owe we playnly to obey[e]
Vnto this lordes mighty ordynaunce,
And, mercylesse, rather for to d[e]ye
Than euer in you be founden varyaunce,
And, though your lyfe be medled with greuaunce,
And at your herte closed be your wounde,
Beth alway one, there as ye are bounde.”

5

That whan I had herde, and lysted longe,
With deuoute herte, the lusty melodye
Of this heuenly comfortable songe,
So agreable as by ermonye,
I rose anon, and faste gan me hye
Towarde a groue, and the way [to] take,
Foules to sene eueryche chose his make.

6

And yet I was ful thursty in languisshyng;
Myn ague was so feruent in his hete
Whan Aurora, for drery complaynyng,
Can distyl her chrystal teeres wete
Vpon the soyle, with syluer dewe so swete,
For she durste, for shame, not apere
Vnder the lyght of Phebus beames clere.

412

7

And so, for anguysshe of my paynes kene,
And for constraynte of my sighes sore,
I set me downe vnder a laurer grene
Ful pitously; and alway more and more,
As I behelde into the holtes hore,
I gan complayne myn inwarde deedly smerte,
That aye so sore craunpisshed myn herte.

8

And whyle that I, in my drery payne
Sate and behelde aboute on euery tre
The foules sytte, alway twayne and twayne,
Than thought I thus, “Alas, what may this be,
That euery foule hath his lyberte
Frely to chose after his desyre
Eueryche his make thus, fro yere to yere?

9

“The sely wrenne, the tytemose also,
The lytel redbrest, haue free election
To flyen yfere and togyther go
Where as hem lyst, aboute enuyron,
As they of kynde haue inclynacion,
And as Nature, emp[e]resse and gyde,
Of euery thyng lyst[e] to prouyde.

10

“But man alone, alas, the harde stounde,
Ful cruelly, by kyndes ordynaunce,
Constrayned is, and by statute bounde,
And debarred from al suche plesaunce
What meneth this? What is this purueyaunce
Of God aboue, agayne al right of kynde,
Without[e] cause, so narowe man to bynde?”

11

Thus may I se[y]ne, and playne[n] [eke], alas!
My woful houre and my disauenture,
That doulfully stonde in the same caas,
So ferre behynde, from al helth and cure.
My wounde abydeth lyke a sursanure,
For me Fortune so felly lyste dispose,
My harme is hyd, that I dare not disclose.

413

12

For I my herte haue set in suche a place
Wher I am neuer lykely for to spede,
So ferre I am hyndred from her grace
That saue Daunger I haue none other mede;
And thus, alas! I not who shal me rede
Ne for myne helpe shape remedye,
For Male-bouche, and for false Enuye;

13

The whiche twayne aye stondeth in my wey
Malyciously, and false Suspection
Is very cause also that I dey,
Gynnyng and rote of my distruction,
So that I fele, in conclusyon,
With her traynes that they wol me shende,
Of my labour that dethe mote make an ende.

14

Yet, or I dye, with herte, wyl, and thought
To God of Loue this auowe I make:
As I best can, howe dere that it be bought,
Where so it be that I slepe or wake,
Whyle Boreas dothe the leaues shake,
As I haue heyght, plainly, tyl I sterue,
For wel or wo, that I shal her serue.

15

And for her sake nowe this holy tyme,
Saynt Valentyne! somwhat shal I write,
Al-though so be that I can not ryme,
Nor curyously by no crafte endyte,
Yet leuer I haue that she put the wyte
In vnconnyng than in neglygence,
Whateuer I saye of her excellence.

16

Whateuer I say, it is of du[we]te,
In sothfastnesse, and no presumpcion;
This I ensure to you that shal it se,
That it is al vnder correction,
What I reherce in commendacion
Of her, that I shal to you, as blyue,
So, as I can, her vertues here discryue.

414

17

Ryght by example as the somer sonne
Passeth the sterre with his beames shene,
And Lucyfer amonge the skyes donne
A-morowe sheweth, to voyde nyghtes tene,
So, verily, withouten any wene,
My lady passeth, who-so taketh hede,
Al tho alyue to speke of womanhede.

18

And as the ruby hath the soueraynte
Of ryche stones and the regalye,
And the rose of swetenesse and beaute,
Of fresshe floures, without[en] any lye,
Ryght so, in sothe, with her goodly eye,
She passeth al in bountie and fayrenesse,
Of maner eke, and of gentylnesse.

19

For she is bothe the fayrest and the beste,
To reken al in very sothfastnesse;
For euery vertue is in her at reste,
And furthermore, to speke of stedfastnesse,
She is the rote, and of semelynesse
The very myrrour, and of gouernaunce
To al example, withouten varyaunce.

20

Of porte benygne, and wonder glad of chere,
Hauyng euermore her trewe aduertence
Alway to reason; so that her desyre
Is brideled aye by wytte and prouydence.
Thereto of wytte and of hye prudence
She is the welle, aye deuoyde of pride,
That vnto vertue her-seluen is the gyde.

21

And ouer this in her dalyaunce
Lowly she is, discrete and wyse [and fre],
And goodly glad by attemperaunce,
That euery wight of hygh and lowe degre
Are glad in herte with her for to be;
So that, shortly, if I shal not lye,
She named is “The Floure of Curtesye.”

415

22

And there to speke of femynyte,
The leste mannysshe in comparyson,
Goodly abasshed, hauyng aye pyte
Of hem that ben in trybulacion,
For she alone is consolacion
To al that arne in mischefe and in nede,
To comforte hem of her womanhede.

23

And aye in vertue is her besy charge,
Sadde and demure, and but of wordes fewe,
Dredeful also of tonges that ben large,
Eschewyng aye hem that lyste to hewe
Aboue her heed, her wordes for to shewe,
Dishonestly to speke of any wight;
She deedly hateth of hem to haue a syght.

24

The herte of whom so honest is and clene,
And her entent so faythful and entere
That she ne may, for al the worlde, sustene
To suffre her eeres any worde to here
Of frende nor foe neyther ferre ne nere
Amysse resowning, þat hynder shulde his name,
And if she do, she wexeth reed for shame.

25

So trewly in menyng she is in-sette,
Without chaungyng or any doublenesse;
For bountie and beautie are togyther knette
On her persone vnder faythfulnesse;
For voyde she is of newfanglenesse,
In herte aye one, for euer to perseuer
There she is sette, and neuer to disseuer.

26

I am to rude her vertues euerychone
Cunnyngly to discryue and write,
For, wel ye wot, colour haue I none
Lyke her discrecion craftely to endyte,
For what I say, al it is to lyte;
Wherfore to you thus I me excuse,
That I aqueynted am not with no muse.

416

27

By rethorike my style to gouerne
In her preise and commendacion,
I am to blynde so hylye to discerne
Of her goodnesse to make discrypcion,
Saue thus I say, in conclusyon,
If that I shal shortly [her] commende,
In her is naught that Nature can amende.

28

For good she is, lyke to Polycene,
And in fayrenesse to the quene Helayne,
Stedfast of herte as was Dorigene
And wyfely trouthe, if I shal not fayne,
In constaunce eke and faythe, she may attayne
To Cleopatre, and therto as secree
As was of Troye the whyte Antygone.

29

As Hester meke, lyke Judith of prudence
Kynde as Alcest or Marcia Catoun,
And to Grisylde lyke in pacience,
And Ariadne of discrecioun,
And to Lucrece, that was of Rome toun,
She may be lykened, as for honeste,
And for her faythe, vnto Penelope.

30

To fayre Phyllis and to Hipsyphilee
For innocence and for womanhede,
For semelynesse vnto Canace;
And ouer this, to speke of goodlyhede,
She passeth al that I can of rede,
For worde and dede, that she naught ne fal,
Acorde in vertue, and her werkes al.

31

For though that Dydo with wytte sage
Was in her tyme stedfast to Enee,
Of hastynesse yet she dyd outrage,
And so for Iason dyd also Medee;
But my lady is so auysee
That, bountie and beautie bothe in her demeyne,
She maketh bountie alway souerayne.

417

32

This is to meane, bountie gothe afore,
Lad by prudence, and hath the soueraynte,
And beautie foloweth, ruled by her lore,
That she ne fende her in no degre;
So that, in one, this goodly fresshe fre
Surmountyng al, withouten any were,
Is good and fayre in one persone yfere.

33

And though that I, for very ignoraunce,
Ne may discryue her vertues by and by,
Yet on this day, for a remembraunce,
Onely supported vnder her mercy,
With quakyng honde, I shal ful humbly
To her hynesse, my rudenesse for to quyte,
A lytel balade here byneth endyte.

34

Euer as I can supprise in myn herte,
Alway with feare, betwyxt drede and shame,
Leste out of lose any worde asterte
In this metre to make it seme lame;
Chaucer is deed, that had suche a name
Of fayre makyng, that, without[en] wene,
Fayrest in our tonge, as the laurer grene.

35

We may assay for to countrefete
His gay[e] style, but it wyl not be;
The welle is drie, with the lycoure swete,
Bothe of Clye and of Caliope;
And, first of al, I wol excuse me
To her that is grounde of goodlyhede,
And thus I say vntyl her womanhede:—

Balade Symple

36

“With al my might and [in] my best entent,
With al the faythe that mighty God of kynde
Me yaue, syth he me soule and knowyng sent,
I chese, and to this bonde euer I me bynde,
To loue you best, whyle I haue lyfe and mynde.”
Thus herde I foules, in the dawenyng,
Vpon the day of Saynte Valentyne synge.

418

37

“Yet chese I, at the begynnyng, in this entent,
To loue you, though I no mercy fynde,
And if you lyste I dyed, I wolde assent,
As euer twynne I quicke out of this lyn[d]e.
Suffyseth me to sene your fethers ynde.”
Thus herde I foules in the mor[we]nynge
Vpon the daye of Saynte Valentyne synge.

38

“And ouer this, myne hertes luste to bente,
In honour onely of the wodde-bynde,
Holy I yeue, neuer to repente
In ioye or wo, where-so that I wynde
To fore Cupyde, with his eyen blynde.”
The foules al, whan Tytan dyd springe,
With deuoute hert, me thought I herde synge.

Lenuoye

Princesse of beautie, to you I represent
This symple dyte, rude as in makynge,
Of herte and wyl faythful in myn entent,
Lyke as this day foules herde I synge.

Here endeth the Floure of Curtesy