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

Al Right-Wisnesse dothe now procede,
Sitte crowned liche an Emperesse;
Lawe hathe diffied Guerdoun & Mede,
And sette vp Trowthe as a goddesse.
Good Feithe hathe outraied Dowblenesse,
And Prudence seeth al thynge a-forne,
Kepyng the ordre of Stablenesse
Conueyed by lyne—right as a rammes horne.

462

2

Princes of custome maynteyne right yn dede,
And prelates lyuen alle yn holynesse,
Knyȝthode wille suffre no falshede,
And presthode hathe refused al richesse;
Religious, of verray parfitenesse,
With vertues ben on hight vp-borne;
Enuye yn cloisters hathe noon entresse:
There loue conueyed—right as a rames horne.

3

Marchauntes of lucre take noon hede,
And Vsure lith fetred yn distresse;
And for to speke or write of womanhede,
Thei ban[i]shed han from hem Nowfangelnesse;
And laborers done ay ther besynesse
That of the daie they wille none owre be lorne,
With swotte & trauaile avoydyng Idilnesse:
Conueyed be lyne—right as a rammes horne.

4

Pore folke pleyne hem for no nede,—
These riche men dothe so grete almesse!
Plente eke dothe the hungry fede,
Clothe the naked & his wrecchednesse;

463

And Charite is now a chief maistres;
Sclandre from his tunge hathe plucked owte þe thorn;
Detraccioun his langage dothe represse:
Conueyed be lyne—right as a rammes horn.

5

Ipocrisie chaunged hathe his wede,
Take an habite of vertuous gladnesse;
Deceyte dare not abrode is whynges sprede,
Nor Dissymulynge owte his hornes dresse;
For Trowthe of kynde wille shewe his brightnesse
Withowte eclipsynge, thowgh Falsnesse had hit sworn;
And for to afferme this dite by processe,
Hit is conueied—right as a rammes horn.

6

Owte of this londe—& elles God forbede!—
Owtlawed ben Feynynge & Falsenesse;
And Flatrie is fled, for verrai drede;
Riche and pore haue chose hem to Sadnesse;
Women lefte Pride, & take hem to Mekenesse,
Whos paciens is now wette and shorne,
Ther tonges haue non tarage of sharpnesse:
Conueied be lyne—right as a rammes horne.

7

So now remembre, & prudentli take hede,
How Vertu is of Vices lady & maistresse;

464

Owre feithe not halteth, but leueth on his crede,
Thurgh right beleue, the dede bereth witnesse;
Eretikes han loste here frowardenesse,
Wedid the cokle from the pure corne:
Thus eche astate is gouerned, yn sothenesse,
Conueied be lyne—right as a rammes horne!