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The uncouth old spell

ness of the period in which he wrote. ing need not deprive any one of the pleasure of enjoying the poem, as a few minutes' practice will accustom the eye and the ear to the strangeness of the orthography and rhythm. It would have been very easy to obviate those last obstacles entirely by giving the reader Dryden's version, instead of the original; but there are a thousand charming touches in Chaucer quite peculiar to himself, and which Dryden, with all his higher polish, could never really improve. Every original work of a man of genius, even when imperfect and faulty, must always possess a life and reality which no imitation, even the most finished, can hope to equal; and in this, as in every other instance, we have preferred carrying our bucket to the fountain head. Let us hope the reader will enjoy the draught offered to him from

"Dan Chaucer, well of English undefiled."

THE FLOWER AND THE LEAF.

ARGUMENT.

A gentlewoman out of an arbour in a grove, seeth a great companie of knights and ladies in a daunce upon the greene grasse: the which being ended, they all kneele downe, and do honour to the daisie, some to the flower, and some to the leafe. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth by one of these ladies the meaning hereof, which is this: They which honour the flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as looke after beautie and worldly pleasure. But they that honour the leafe, which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter stormes, are they which follow vertue and during qualities, without regard of worldly respects.

Whan that Phebus his chair of golde so hie,

Had whirled up the sterry sky aloft,

And in the Boole was entred certainly,

When shoures sweet of raine descended soft,

Causing the ground fele times and oft,
Up for to give many an wholsome aire,
And every plaine was clothed faire

With new greene, and maketh small floures

To springen here and there in field and in mede,

So very good and wholsome be the shoures,

That it renueth that was old and dede,
In winter time; and out of every sede
Springeth the hearbe, so that every wight
Of this season wexeth glad and light,

And I so glad of the season swete
Was happed thus upon a certaine night,
As I lay in my bed, sleepe full unmete
Was unto me, but why that I ne might
Rest, I ne wist: for there n'as earthly wight
As I suppose had more herts ease

Than I; for I n'ad sicknesse nor disease.

Wherefore I mervaile greatly of my selfe,
That I so long withouten sleepe lay,
And up I rose three houres after twelfe,
About the springing of the daye;
And I put on my geare and my arraye,
And to a pleasaunt grove I gan passe,
Long er the bright Sunne up risen was.

In which were okes great, streight as a line,
Under the which the grasse so fresh of hew,
Was newly sprong, and an eight foot or nine
Every tree well fro his fellow grew,
With branches brode, laden with leves newe
That sprongen out ayen the sunne-shene
Some very red, and some a glad light grene.

Which as me thought was right a pleasant sight,
And eke the briddes songe for to here,
Would have rejoiced any earthly wight,
And I that couth not yet in no manere,
Heare the nightingale of all the yeare,

Ful busily herkened with herte and with eare,

If I her voice perceive coud any where.

And, at the last, a path of little brede

I found, that greatly had not used be,

For it forgrowen was with grasse and weede, That well unneth a wighte might it se: Thought I, this path some whider goth, pardè; And so I followed, till it me brought

To right a pleasaunt herber well ywrought,

That benched was, and with turfes new
Freshly turved, whereof the grene gras,
So small, so thicke, so shorte, so fresh of hew,
That most like unto green wool wot I it was:
The hegge also that yede in compas,

And closed in all the greene herbere,
With sicamour was set and eglatere;

Wrethen in fere so well and cunningly,
That every branch and leafe grew by mesure,
Plaine as a bord, of an height by and by,

I sie never thing I you ensure,

So well done; for he that tooke the cure

It to make ytrow, did all his peine

To make it passe all tho that men have seine.

And shapen was this herber roof and all,
As a prety parlour; and also

The hegge as thicke as a castle wall,
That who that list without, to stond or go,
Though he would all day prien to and fro,
He should not see if there were any wight
Within or no; but one within well might

Perceive all tho thot yeden there without
In the field, that was on every side

Covered with corn and grasse, that out of doubt,
Though one would seeke all the world wide,

So rich a fielde coud not be espide

On no coast, as of the quantity,

For of all good thing there was plenty.

And I that all this pleasaunt sight sie,
Thought sodainly I felt so sweet an aire
Of the eglentere, that certainely,
There is no hert, I deme, in such dispaire,
Ne with thoughts froward, and contraire,
So overlaid, but it should soon have bote,
If it had ones felt this savour sote.

And as I stood and cast aside mine eie,
I was ware of the fairest medler tree,

That ever yet in all my life I sie,
As full of blossomes as it might be,
Therein a goldfinch leaping pretile

Fro bough to bough; and, as him list, he eet
Here and there of buds and floures sweet.

And to the herber side was joyning
This faire tree, of which I have you told,
And at the last the bird began to sing,
Whan he had eaten what he eat wold;

So passing sweetly, that by manifold
It was more pleasaunt than I coud devise,
And whan his song was ended in this wise,

The nightingale with so merry a note,
Answered him, that all the wood rong
So sodainly, that as it were a sote,

I stood astonied, so was I with the song
Thorow ravished, that till late and long,
I ne wist in what place I was, ne where;

And ayen, me thought, she song ever by mine ere.

Wherefore I waited about busily

On every side, if I her might see;

And, at the last, I gan full well aspy

Where she sat in a freshe grene laurer tree,

On the further side even right by me,
That gave so passing a delicious smell,
According to the eglentere full well.

Whereof I had so inly great pleasure,
That, as me thought, I surely ravished was
Into Paradise, where my desire

Was for to be, and no ferther passe,
As for that day, and on the sote grasse
I sat me downe, for as for mine entent,
The birdes song was more convenient,

And more pleasaunt to me by many fold,
Than meat or drinke, or any other thing,
Thereto the herber was so fresh and cold,
The wholesome savours eke so comforting,
That, as I demed, sith the beginning

Of the world was never seene er than

So pleasaunt a ground of none earthly man.

And as I sat the birds hearkening thus,

Me thought that I heard voices sodainly,

The most sweetest and most delicious

That ever any wight I trow truly
Heard in their life, for the armony

And sweet accord was in so good musike,
That the voice to angels most was like.

At the last, out of a grove even by,
That was right goodly and pleasaunt to sight,

I sie where there came singing lustily,
A world of ladies; but, to tell aright
Their great beauty, it lieth not in my might,
Ne their array; neverthelesse I shall
Tell you a part, though I speake not of all.

The surcotes white of velvet wele sitting, They were in cladde; and the semes echone,

As it were a manere garnishing,

Was set with emerauds one and one,

By and by; but many a riche stone

Was set on the purfiles, out of dout,

Of colors, sleves, and traines round about.

As great pearles round and orient,
Diamonds fine, and rubies red,

And many another stone of which I went
The names now; and everich on her head
A rich fret of gold, which without dread
Was full of stately riche stones set,
And every lady had a chapelet

On her head of branches fresh and grene,
So wele wrought and so marvelously

That it was a noble sight to sene,

Some of laurer, and some full pleasauntly
Had chapelets of wood bind, and sadly
Some of agnus castus were also

Chapelets fresh; but there were many of tho

That daunced and eke song full soberly,

But all they yede in manner of compace,
But one there yede in mid the company,
Sole by herselfe, but all followed the pace
That she kepte, whose heavenly figured face
So pleasaunt was, and her wele shape person,
That of beauty she past hem everichon.

And more richly bescene, by many fold,
She was also in every maner thing,
On her head full pleasaunt to behold,
A crowne of golde rich for any king,
A braunch of agnus castus eke bearing
In her hand; and to my sight truly,
She lady was of the company.

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