 | The minor poems (1910-1934) |  |
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XI. TO MY SOVERAIN LADY.
I have non English convenient and digne
Myn hertes hele, lady, thee with t'honoure,
Ivorie clene; therfore I wol resigne
In-to thyn hand, til thou list socoure
To help my making bothe florisshe and floure;
Than shulde I shewe, in lovë how I brende,
In songes making, thy name to commende.
Myn hertes hele, lady, thee with t'honoure,
Ivorie clene; therfore I wol resigne
In-to thyn hand, til thou list socoure
To help my making bothe florisshe and floure;
Than shulde I shewe, in lovë how I brende,
In songes making, thy name to commende.
For if I coude before thyn excellence
Singen in love, I wolde, what I fele,
And ever standen, lady, in thy presence,
To shewe in open how I love you wele;
And sith, although your herte be mad of stele,
To you, withoute any disseveraunce,
Jay en vous toute ma fiaunce.
Singen in love, I wolde, what I fele,
And ever standen, lady, in thy presence,
To shewe in open how I love you wele;
And sith, although your herte be mad of stele,
To you, withoute any disseveraunce,
Jay en vous toute ma fiaunce.
Wher might I love ever better besette
Than in this lilie, lyking to beholde?
The lace of love, the bond so wel thou knette,
That I may see thee or myn herte colde,
And or I passe out of my dayes olde,
Tofore singing evermore utterly—
‘Your eyën two wol slee me sodainly.’
Than in this lilie, lyking to beholde?
The lace of love, the bond so wel thou knette,
That I may see thee or myn herte colde,
And or I passe out of my dayes olde,
Tofore singing evermore utterly—
‘Your eyën two wol slee me sodainly.’
For love I langour, blissed be such seknesse,
Sith it is for you, my hertely suffisaunce;
I can not elles saye, in my distresse,
So fair oon hath myn herte in governaunce;
And after that I ginne on esperaunce
With feble entune, though it thyn herte perce,
Yet for thy sake this lettre I do reherce.
Sith it is for you, my hertely suffisaunce;
I can not elles saye, in my distresse,
So fair oon hath myn herte in governaunce;
And after that I ginne on esperaunce
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Yet for thy sake this lettre I do reherce.
God wot, on musike I can not, but I gesse,
(Alas! why so?) that I might say or singe,
So love I you, myn own soverain maistresse,
And ever shal, withouten départinge.
Mirrour of beautè, for you out shuld I ringe,
In rémembraunce eke of your eyen clere,
Thus fer from you, my soverain lady dere!
(Alas! why so?) that I might say or singe,
So love I you, myn own soverain maistresse,
And ever shal, withouten départinge.
Mirrour of beautè, for you out shuld I ringe,
In rémembraunce eke of your eyen clere,
Thus fer from you, my soverain lady dere!
So wolde god your love wold me slo,
Sith, for your sake, I singe day by day;
Herte, why nilt thou [never] breke a-two,
Sith with my lady dwellen I ne may?
Thus many a roundel and many a virelay
In fresshe Englisshe, whan I me layser finde,
I do recorde, on you to have minde!
Sith, for your sake, I singe day by day;
Herte, why nilt thou [never] breke a-two,
Sith with my lady dwellen I ne may?
Thus many a roundel and many a virelay
In fresshe Englisshe, whan I me layser finde,
I do recorde, on you to have minde!
Now, lady myn! sith I you love and drede,
And you unchaunged finde, in o degree,
Whos grace ne may flye fro your womanhede,
Disdayneth not for to remembre on me!
Myn herte bledeth, for I may nat you see;
And sith ye wot my mening désirous,
Pleurez pur moi, si vous plaist amorous!
And you unchaunged finde, in o degree,
Whos grace ne may flye fro your womanhede,
Disdayneth not for to remembre on me!
Myn herte bledeth, for I may nat you see;
And sith ye wot my mening désirous,
Pleurez pur moi, si vous plaist amorous!
What marveyle is, though I in payne be?
I am departed from you, my soveraine;
Fortune, alas! dont vient la destenee,
That in no wyse I can ne may attayne
To see the beautè of your eyën twayne.
Wherfore I say, for tristesse doth me grame,
Tant me fait mal departir de ma dame!
I am departed from you, my soveraine;
Fortune, alas! dont vient la destenee,
That in no wyse I can ne may attayne
To see the beautè of your eyën twayne.
Wherfore I say, for tristesse doth me grame,
Tant me fait mal departir de ma dame!
Why nere my wisshing brought to suche esploit
That I might say, for joye of your presence,
‘Ore a mon cuer ce quil veuilloit,
Ore a mon cuer the highest excellence
That ever had wight;’ and sith myn advertence
Is in you, reweth on my paynes smerte,
I am so sore wounded to the herte.
That I might say, for joye of your presence,
‘Ore a mon cuer ce quil veuilloit,
Ore a mon cuer the highest excellence
That ever had wight;’ and sith myn advertence
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I am so sore wounded to the herte.
To live wel mery, two lovers were y-fere,
So may I say withouten any blame;
If any man [per cas] to wilde were,
I coude him [sonë] teche to be tame;
Let him go love, and see wher it be game!
For I am brydled unto sobernesse
For her, that is of women cheef princesse.
So may I say withouten any blame;
If any man [per cas] to wilde were,
I coude him [sonë] teche to be tame;
Let him go love, and see wher it be game!
For I am brydled unto sobernesse
For her, that is of women cheef princesse.
But ever, whan thought shulde my herte embrace,
Than unto me is beste remedye,
Whan I loke on your goodly fresshe face;
So mery a mirrour coude I never espye;
And, if I coude, I wolde it magnifye.
For never non was [here] so faire y-founde,
To reken hem al, and also Rosamounde.
Than unto me is beste remedye,
Whan I loke on your goodly fresshe face;
So mery a mirrour coude I never espye;
And, if I coude, I wolde it magnifye.
For never non was [here] so faire y-founde,
To reken hem al, and also Rosamounde.
And fynally, with mouthe and wil present
Of double eye, withoute repentaunce,
Myn herte I yeve you, lady, in this entent,
That ye shal hoolly therof have governaunce;
Taking my leve with hertes obeysaunce,
‘Salve, regina!’ singing laste of al,
To be our helpe, whan we to thee cal!
Of double eye, withoute repentaunce,
Myn herte I yeve you, lady, in this entent,
That ye shal hoolly therof have governaunce;
Taking my leve with hertes obeysaunce,
‘Salve, regina!’ singing laste of al,
To be our helpe, whan we to thee cal!
Al our lovë is but ydelnesse
Save your aloon; who might therto attayne?
Who-so wol have a name of gentillesse,
I counsayle him in love that he not fayne.
Thou swete lady! refut in every payne,
Whos [pitous] mercy most to me avayleth
To gye by grace, whan that fortune fayleth.
Save your aloon; who might therto attayne?
Who-so wol have a name of gentillesse,
I counsayle him in love that he not fayne.
Thou swete lady! refut in every payne,
Whos [pitous] mercy most to me avayleth
To gye by grace, whan that fortune fayleth.
Nought may be told, withouten any fable,
Your high renome, your womanly beautè;
Your governaunce, to al worship able,
Putteth every herte in ese in his degree.
O violet, O flour desiree,
Sith I am for you so amorous,
Estreynez moy, [lady,] de cuer joyous!
Your high renome, your womanly beautè;
Your governaunce, to al worship able,
Putteth every herte in ese in his degree.
O violet, O flour desiree,
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Estreynez moy, [lady,] de cuer joyous!
With fervent herte my brest hath broste on fyre;
L'ardant espoir que mon cuer poynt, est mort,
D'avoir l'amour de celle que je desyre,
I mene you, swete, most plesaunt of port,
Et je sai bien que ceo n'est pas mon tort
That for you singe, so as I may, for mone
For your departing; alone I live, alone.
L'ardant espoir que mon cuer poynt, est mort,
D'avoir l'amour de celle que je desyre,
I mene you, swete, most plesaunt of port,
Et je sai bien que ceo n'est pas mon tort
That for you singe, so as I may, for mone
For your departing; alone I live, alone.
Though I mighte, I wolde non other chese;
In your servyce, I wolde be founden sad;
Therfore I love no labour that ye lese,
Whan, in longing, sorest ye be stad;
Loke up, ye lovers [alle], and be right glad
Ayeines sëynt Valentynes day,
For I have chose that never forsake I may!
In your servyce, I wolde be founden sad;
Therfore I love no labour that ye lese,
Whan, in longing, sorest ye be stad;
Loke up, ye lovers [alle], and be right glad
Ayeines sëynt Valentynes day,
For I have chose that never forsake I may!
Explicit.
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XII. BALLAD OF GOOD COUNSEL.
Consider wel, with every circumstaunce,
Of what estat so-ever that thou be—
Riche, strong, or mighty of puissaunce,
Prudent or wyse, discrete or avisee,
The doom of folke in soth thou mayst nat flee;
What-ever that thou do, trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Of what estat so-ever that thou be—
Riche, strong, or mighty of puissaunce,
Prudent or wyse, discrete or avisee,
The doom of folke in soth thou mayst nat flee;
What-ever that thou do, trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
For in thy port or in thyn apparayle
If thou be clad or honestly be-seyn,
Anon the people, of malice, wol nat fayle,
Without advyce or reson, for to sayn
That thyn array is mad and wrought in vayn;
What! suffre hem spekë!—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
If thou be clad or honestly be-seyn,
Anon the people, of malice, wol nat fayle,
Without advyce or reson, for to sayn
That thyn array is mad and wrought in vayn;
What! suffre hem spekë!—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Thou wilt to kinges be equipolent.
With gretë lordes even and peregal;
And, if thou be to-torn and al to-rent,
Than wol they say, and jangle over-al,
Thou art a slogard, that never thryvë shal;
Yet suffre hem spekë!—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
With gretë lordes even and peregal;
And, if thou be to-torn and al to-rent,
Than wol they say, and jangle over-al,
Thou art a slogard, that never thryvë shal;
Yet suffre hem spekë!—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
286
If thou be fayr, excelling of beautee,
Than wol they say, that thou art amorous;
If thou be foul and ugly on to see,
They wol afferme that thou art vicious,
The peple of langage is so dispitous;
Suffre hem spekë, and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Than wol they say, that thou art amorous;
If thou be foul and ugly on to see,
They wol afferme that thou art vicious,
The peple of langage is so dispitous;
Suffre hem spekë, and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
And if it fallë that thou take a wyf,
[Than] they wol falsly say, in hir entent,
That thou art lykly ever to live in stryf,
Voyd of al rest, without alegëment;
Wyves be maistres, this is hir jugëment;
Yet suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
[Than] they wol falsly say, in hir entent,
That thou art lykly ever to live in stryf,
Voyd of al rest, without alegëment;
Wyves be maistres, this is hir jugëment;
Yet suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
And if it so be that, of parfitnesse,
Thou hast avowed to live in chastitee,
Thán wol folk of thy persone expresse
Say thou art impotent t'engendre in thy degree;
And thus, whether thou be chast or deslavee,
Suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wel alway deme amis.
Thou hast avowed to live in chastitee,
Thán wol folk of thy persone expresse
Say thou art impotent t'engendre in thy degree;
And thus, whether thou be chast or deslavee,
Suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wel alway deme amis.
And if that thou be fat or corpulent,
Than wol they say that thou art a glotoun,
A devourour, or ellës vinolent;
If thou be lene or megre of fassioun,
Cal thee a nigard, in hir opinioun;
Yet suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Than wol they say that thou art a glotoun,
A devourour, or ellës vinolent;
If thou be lene or megre of fassioun,
Cal thee a nigard, in hir opinioun;
Yet suffre hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
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If thou be richë, som wol yeve thee laud,
And say, it cometh of prudent governaunce;
And som wol sayen, that it cometh of fraud,
Outher by sleight, or by fals chevisaunce;
To say the worst, folk have so gret plesaunce;
Yet suffre hem sayë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
And say, it cometh of prudent governaunce;
And som wol sayen, that it cometh of fraud,
Outher by sleight, or by fals chevisaunce;
To say the worst, folk have so gret plesaunce;
Yet suffre hem sayë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
If thou be sad or sobre of countenaunce,
Men wol say—thou thinkest som tresoun;
And if [that] thou be glad of daliaunce,
Men wol deme it dissolucioun,
And calle thy fair speche, adulacioun;
Yet let hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Men wol say—thou thinkest som tresoun;
And if [that] thou be glad of daliaunce,
Men wol deme it dissolucioun,
And calle thy fair speche, adulacioun;
Yet let hem spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Who that is holy by perfeccioun,
Men, of malyce, wol calle him ipocryte;
And who is mery, of clene entencioun,
Men say, in ryot he doth him delyte;
Som mourne in blak; som laughe in clothes whyte;
What! suffre them spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Men, of malyce, wol calle him ipocryte;
And who is mery, of clene entencioun,
Men say, in ryot he doth him delyte;
Som mourne in blak; som laughe in clothes whyte;
What! suffre them spekë—and trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Honest array, men deme, is pompe and pryde,
And who goth poore, men calle him a wastour;
And who goth [mene], men marke him on every syde,
And saye that he is a spye or a gylour;
Who wasteth, men seyn [that] he hath tresour;
Wherfore conclude, and trust [right] wel this,
A wikked tonge wil alway deme amis.
And who goth poore, men calle him a wastour;
And who goth [mene], men marke him on every syde,
And saye that he is a spye or a gylour;
Who wasteth, men seyn [that] he hath tresour;
Wherfore conclude, and trust [right] wel this,
A wikked tonge wil alway deme amis.
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Who speketh mochë, men calle him prudent;
And who debateth, men say, he is hardy;
And who saith litel with gret sentiment,
Som men yet wol edwyte him of foly;
Trouth is put down, and up goth flatery;
And who list plainly know the cause of this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
And who debateth, men say, he is hardy;
And who saith litel with gret sentiment,
Som men yet wol edwyte him of foly;
Trouth is put down, and up goth flatery;
And who list plainly know the cause of this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
For though a man were al-so pacient
As was David, through his humilitee,
Or with Salamon in wysdom as prudent,
Or in knighthode egal with Josuë,
Or manly proved as Judas Machabee,
Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
A wicked tonge wol alway deme amis.
As was David, through his humilitee,
Or with Salamon in wysdom as prudent,
Or in knighthode egal with Josuë,
Or manly proved as Judas Machabee,
Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
A wicked tonge wol alway deme amis.
And though a man hadde the high prowesse
Of worthy Hector, Troyes champioun,
The love of Troilus or the kindenesse,
Or of Cesar the famous high renoun,
With Alisaundres dominacioun,
Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Of worthy Hector, Troyes champioun,
The love of Troilus or the kindenesse,
Or of Cesar the famous high renoun,
With Alisaundres dominacioun,
Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
And though a man of high or low degree
Of Tullius hadde the sugred eloquence,
Or of Senek the greet moralitee,
Or of Catoun the foresight or prudence,
Conquest of Charles, Arthurs magnificence,
Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Of Tullius hadde the sugred eloquence,
Or of Senek the greet moralitee,
Or of Catoun the foresight or prudence,
Conquest of Charles, Arthurs magnificence,
Yet, for al that—trust right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
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Touching of women the parfit innocence,
Thogh they had of Hestre the mekenes,
Or of Griseldes [the] humble pacience,
Or of Judith the proved stablenes,
Or Policenes virginal clennes,
Yit dar I say and truste right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Thogh they had of Hestre the mekenes,
Or of Griseldes [the] humble pacience,
Or of Judith the proved stablenes,
Or Policenes virginal clennes,
Yit dar I say and truste right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
The wyfly trouthë of Penelope,
Though they it hadde in hir possessioun,
Eleynes beautè, the kindnes of Medee,
The love unfeyned of Marcia Catoun,
Or of Alcest the trewe affeccioun,
Yit dar I say and truste right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Though they it hadde in hir possessioun,
Eleynes beautè, the kindnes of Medee,
The love unfeyned of Marcia Catoun,
Or of Alcest the trewe affeccioun,
Yit dar I say and truste right wel this,
A wikked tonge wol alway deme amis.
Than sith it is, that no man may eschewe
The swerde of tonge, but it wol kerve and byte,
Ful hard it is, a man for to remewe
Out of hir daunger, so they hem delyte
To hindre or slaundre, and also to bakbyte;
For [this] hir study fynally it is
And hir plesaunce, alwey to deme amis.
The swerde of tonge, but it wol kerve and byte,
Ful hard it is, a man for to remewe
Out of hir daunger, so they hem delyte
To hindre or slaundre, and also to bakbyte;
For [this] hir study fynally it is
And hir plesaunce, alwey to deme amis.
Most noble princes, cherisshers of vertue,
Remembreth you of high discrecioun,
The first vertue, most plesing to Jesu,
(By the wryting and sentence of Catoun),
Is a good tonge, in his opinioun;
Chastyse the révers, and of wysdom do this,
Withdraw your hering from al that deme amis.
Remembreth you of high discrecioun,
The first vertue, most plesing to Jesu,
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Is a good tonge, in his opinioun;
Chastyse the révers, and of wysdom do this,
Withdraw your hering from al that deme amis.
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XIV. A BALADE: WARNING MEN TO BEWARE OF DECEITFUL WOMEN.
Loke wel aboute, ye that lovers be;
Lat nat your lustes lede you to dotage;
Be nat enamoured on al thing that ye see.
Sampson the fort, and Salamon the sage
Deceived were, for al hir gret corage;
Men deme hit is right as they see at y;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
Lat nat your lustes lede you to dotage;
Be nat enamoured on al thing that ye see.
Sampson the fort, and Salamon the sage
Deceived were, for al hir gret corage;
Men deme hit is right as they see at y;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
I mene, in women, for al hir cheres queinte,
Trust nat to moche; hir trouthë is but geson;
The fairest outward ful wel can they peinte,
Hir stedfastnes endureth but a seson;
For they feyn frendlines and worchen treson.
And for they be chaungeáble naturally,
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
Trust nat to moche; hir trouthë is but geson;
The fairest outward ful wel can they peinte,
Hir stedfastnes endureth but a seson;
For they feyn frendlines and worchen treson.
And for they be chaungeáble naturally,
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
Though al the world do his besy cure
To make women stonde in stablenes,
Hit may nat be, hit is agayn nature;
The world is do whan they lak doublenes;
For they can laughe and love nat; this is expres.
To trust in hem, hit is but fantasy;
Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.
To make women stonde in stablenes,
Hit may nat be, hit is agayn nature;
The world is do whan they lak doublenes;
For they can laughe and love nat; this is expres.
To trust in hem, hit is but fantasy;
Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.
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What wight on-lyve trusteth in hir cheres
Shal haue at last his guerdon and his mede;
They can shave nerer then rasóurs or sheres;
Al is nat gold that shyneth! Men, take hede;
Hir galle is hid under a sugred wede.
Hit is ful hard hir fantasy t'aspy;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
Shal haue at last his guerdon and his mede;
They can shave nerer then rasóurs or sheres;
Al is nat gold that shyneth! Men, take hede;
Hir galle is hid under a sugred wede.
Hit is ful hard hir fantasy t'aspy;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
Women, of kinde, have condicions three;
The first is, that they be fulle of deceit;
To spinne also hit is hir propertee;
And women have a wonderful conceit,
They wepen ofte, and al is but a sleight,
And whan they list, the tere is in the y;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
The first is, that they be fulle of deceit;
To spinne also hit is hir propertee;
And women have a wonderful conceit,
They wepen ofte, and al is but a sleight,
And whan they list, the tere is in the y;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
What thing than eyr is lighter and meveable?
The light, men say, that passeth in a throw;
Al if the light be nat so variable
As is the wind that every wey [can] blow;
And yet, of reson, som men deme and trow
Women be lightest of hir company;
Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.
The light, men say, that passeth in a throw;
Al if the light be nat so variable
As is the wind that every wey [can] blow;
And yet, of reson, som men deme and trow
Women be lightest of hir company;
Bewar therfore; the blind et many a fly.
In short to say, though al the erth so wan
Were parchëmyn smothe, whyte and scribable,
And the gret see, cleped the occian,
Were torned in inke, blakker then is sable,
Ech stik a penne, ech man a scriveyn able,
They coud nat wryte wommannes traitory;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
Were parchëmyn smothe, whyte and scribable,
And the gret see, cleped the occian,
Were torned in inke, blakker then is sable,
Ech stik a penne, ech man a scriveyn able,
They coud nat wryte wommannes traitory;
Bewar therfore; the blinde et many a fly.
405
XXII. A GOODLY BALADE.
Moder of norture, best beloved of al,
And fresshest flour, to whom good thrift god sende.
Your child, if it list you me so to cal,
Al be I unable my-self so to pretende,
To your discrecioun I recommende
Myn herte and al, with every circumstaunce,
Al hoolly to be under your governaunce.
And fresshest flour, to whom good thrift god sende.
Your child, if it list you me so to cal,
Al be I unable my-self so to pretende,
To your discrecioun I recommende
Myn herte and al, with every circumstaunce,
Al hoolly to be under your governaunce.
Most desyre I, and have, and ever shal
Thing, whiche might your hertës ese amende;
Have me excused, my power is but smal;
Natheles, of right ye ought[e] to commende
My good[e] will, which fayn wolde entende
To do you service; for al my suffisaunce
Is hoolly to be under your governaunce.
Thing, whiche might your hertës ese amende;
Have me excused, my power is but smal;
Natheles, of right ye ought[e] to commende
My good[e] will, which fayn wolde entende
To do you service; for al my suffisaunce
Is hoolly to be under your governaunce.
Meulx un: in herte, which never shal apal,
Ay fresshe and newe, and right glad to dispende
My tyme in your servyce, what-so befal,
Beseching your excéllence to defende
My simplenesse, if ignoraunce offende
In any wyse; sith that myn affiaunce
Is hoolly to be under your governaunce.
Ay fresshe and newe, and right glad to dispende
My tyme in your servyce, what-so befal,
Beseching your excéllence to defende
My simplenesse, if ignoraunce offende
In any wyse; sith that myn affiaunce
Is hoolly to be under your governaunce.
406
Daisy of light! very ground of comfort!
The sonnes doughter ye hight, as I rede;
For when he westreth, farwel your disport!
By your nature anon, right for pure drede
Of the rude night, that with his boystous wede
Of derkness shadoweth our emispere,
Than closen ye, my lyves lady dere!
The sonnes doughter ye hight, as I rede;
For when he westreth, farwel your disport!
By your nature anon, right for pure drede
Of the rude night, that with his boystous wede
Of derkness shadoweth our emispere,
Than closen ye, my lyves lady dere!
Dawing the day to his kinde resort,
Phebus your fader, with his stremes rede,
Adorneth the morow, cónsuming the sort
Of misty cloudës, that wolde overlede
Trewe humble hertës with hir mistihede,
Nere comfort a-dayes, whan eyën clere
Disclose and sprede my lyves lady dere.
[OMITTED]
Phebus your fader, with his stremes rede,
Adorneth the morow, cónsuming the sort
Of misty cloudës, that wolde overlede
Trewe humble hertës with hir mistihede,
Nere comfort a-dayes, whan eyën clere
Disclose and sprede my lyves lady dere.
Je vouldray:—but [the] gret[e] god disposeth
And maketh casuel by his providence
Such thing as mannës frelë wit purposeth;
Al for the best, if that our conscience
Nat grucche it, but in humble pacience
It receyve; for god saith, without[e] fable,
A faithful hertë ever is acceptáble.
And maketh casuel by his providence
Such thing as mannës frelë wit purposeth;
Al for the best, if that our conscience
Nat grucche it, but in humble pacience
It receyve; for god saith, without[e] fable,
A faithful hertë ever is acceptáble.
Cautels who useth gladly, gloseth;
To eschewe suche it is right high prudence;
What ye said[e] onës, [now] myn herte opposeth,
“That my wryting japës, in your absence,
Plesed you moche bet than my presence!”
Yet can I more, ye be nat excusáble;
A faithful hertë ever is acceptáble.
To eschewe suche it is right high prudence;
What ye said[e] onës, [now] myn herte opposeth,
“That my wryting japës, in your absence,
Plesed you moche bet than my presence!”
Yet can I more, ye be nat excusáble;
A faithful hertë ever is acceptáble.
Quaketh my penne; my spirit supposeth
That in my wryting ye finde wol som offence;
Myn herte welkeneth thus sone, anon it roseth;
Now hot, now cold, and eft in [al] fervence;
That mis is, is caused of negligence
And not of malice; therfor beth merciable;
A faithful hertë ever is acceptáble.
That in my wryting ye finde wol som offence;
Myn herte welkeneth thus sone, anon it roseth;
Now hot, now cold, and eft in [al] fervence;
407
And not of malice; therfor beth merciable;
A faithful hertë ever is acceptáble.
Lenvoy.
Forth, complaynt! forth, lakking eloquence,Forth, litel lettre, of endyting lame!
I have besought my ladies sapience
Of thy behalfe, to accept in game
Thyn inabilitee; do thou the same!
Abyd! have more yet; Je serve Jonesse.
Now forth; I close thee, in holy Venus name;
Thee shal unclose my hertes governeresse.
Finis.
| The minor poems (1910-1934) | |