University of Virginia Library


186

TO CHAUCER.

(As if by a contemporary writer.)

Forsyth thowe beest the fyrst gode harpour wight
That sang full swotilie in lefe Englonde,
Thie galiard gle, me doth to grete delite,
And in low curtesie I kiss thie hond;
Now thie queint leys of stalwart knightes do tell,
Of gisarmes split, and haubergéons rivin,
And now of monkes ystall'd in corven cell,
And now of wincing wives to daliaunce givin;
Ronn nat to glittern in the gergon throng,
But swell thie renomie at my behest,
Certes, gode Geffray, eche shall con thie song,
And leve eche song he conneth be thie best.
 

Forsyth, for since

lefe, dear

galiard, gay

gle, melody

leys, lays

stalwart, bold

gisarme, a kind of halbert

corven, carved

ronn nat, cease not

gergon prating

leve, believe.