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Roberte Coplande boke prynter to new fanglers.
 



Roberte Coplande boke prynter to new fanglers.

Newes/newes/newes/haue ye ony newes
Myne eres ake/to here you call and crye
Ben bokes made with whystelynge and whewes
Ben there not yet ynow to your fantasye
In fayth nay I trow and yet haue ye dayly
Of maters sadde/and eke of apes and oules
But yet for your pleasure/thusmoche do wyll I
As to lette you here the parlament of foules.
Chaucer is deed the whiche this pamphlete wrate
So ben his heyres in all suche besynesse
And gone is also the famous clerke Lydgate
And so is yonge Hawes/god theyr soules adresse
Many were the volumes ye they made more & lesse
Theyr bokes ye lay vp/tyll that the lether moules
But yet for your myndes this boke I wyll impresse
That is in tytule the parlyament of foules
So many lerned at leest they say they be
Was neuer sene/doynge so fewe good werkes
Where is the tyme that they do spende trowe ye
In prayers? ye/where? in feldes and parkes
Ye but where be bycomen all the clerkes?
In slouthe and ydlenesse theyr tyme defoules
For lacke of wrytynge/conteynynge morall sperkes
I must imprynt the parlament of foules.
Dytees/and letters them can I make my selfe
Of suche ynowe ben dayly to me brought
Olde morall bokes stonde styll vpon the shelfe
I am in fere they wyll neuer be bought
Tryfles and toyes they ben the thynges so sought
Theyr wyttes tryndle lyke these flemysshe boules
yet gentyll clerkes folowe hym ye ought
That dyd endyte the parlyament of foules.
Finis.