From Prologue to Canterbury Tales.
A good man there was of religion
That was a poor parson of a town,
But rich he was of holy thought and work.
He was also a learned man, a clerk,
That Christ-'es gospel tru-ely would preach,
His parishens devoutly would he teach.
Benign he was, and wondrous diligent,
And in adversity full patient.
And such he was y-prov-ed often times.
Full loth was he to press men for his tithes,
But rather would he giv-en out of doubt
Unto his poor-e parishens about,
Of his offering, and eke of his substance.
He could in little thing have sufficiance.
Wide was his parish, and houses far asunder,
But he ne'er left nought, for no rain nor thunder,
In sickness and in mischief to visit
The farthest in his parish, great and little,
Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff.
This noble sample to his sheep he gave,
That first he wrought, and afterwards he taught,
Out of the gospel he the word-es caught.
A better priest I trow that no where none is.
He waited after no pomp nor reverence,
Nor mak-ed him no spiced conscience,
But Christ-es lore, and his apostles twelve
He taught, but first he followed it himself.
Eke Plato sayeth, whoso can him read—
"The word-es must be cousin to the deed."
EMELIE, IN THE KNIGHT'S TALE.
It fell once in a morn of May,
That Emelie, that fairer was to seen
Than is the lily upon his stalk-e green,
And fresher than the May with flowers new,
(For with the rose colour strove her hue,
I know not which was finer of them two,)
Ere it was day, as she was wont to do,
She was arisen, and all ready dight,
For May will have no sluggardie a-night.
The season pricketh every gentle heart,
And maketh him out of his sleep to start,
And saith," Arise, and do thine observance."
This maketh Emelie have remembrance
To do honour to May, and for to rise.
Y-cloth-ed was she fresh, for to devise;
Her yellow hair was braided in a tress
Behind her back, a yard-e long I guess ;
And in the garden at the sun up-rist
She walketh up and down where as she list.
She gathereth flowers, partie white and red,
To make a subtle garland for her head.
And as an angel heavenly she sang. . .
OPENING OF THE SQUIRE'S TALE.
'Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold."-Milton. At Sarra, in the land of Tartarie,
There dwelt a king that war-red Russie,
Through which there di-ed many a doughty man;
This noble king was clep-ed Cambuscan,`
Which in his time was of so great renown,
That there was no where in no region
So excellent a lord in all-e thing;
Him lack-ed nought that 'longeth to a king.
This noble king, this Tartar Cambuscan
Had-e two sons by Elfeta his wife,
Of which the eldest son hight Algarsif,
That other was ycleped Camballo;
A daughter had this worthy king also
That youngest was, and hight-e Canace,
But for to tell you all her beauty,
It li'th not in my tongue nor in my conning.
From the Merchant's Prologue.
Weeping and wailing, care and other sorrow I have enough, on even, and on morrow.
From the Romaunt of the Rose.
That it was May, me thought-e though
It is five years or more ago,
That it was May, thus dream-ed me
In time of love and jolity. . .
These wood-es eke recovering green,
That dry in winter be to seen,
And the earth waxeth proud withall
For sweet dews that on it fall,
And the poor estate forget
In which that winter had it set.
Hard is his heart that loveth nought
In May when all this mirth is wrought,
When he may on these branches hear
The small birds singing clear
Their blissful sweet song piteous
And in this season delicious.
Not Avarice the foul caitief
Was half to gripe so ententive
As Largess is to give and spend,
And God alway enough her send;
So that the more she gave away
The more I wis she had alway.
REASON" MEN CLEPT THAT LADY.
She was neither young nor hoar,
Nor high nor low, nor fat nor lean,
But best, as it were in a mean.
Her eyes two were clear and light
As any candle that burneth bright,
And on her head she had a crown,
She seem-ed well a high person;
For round about her coronet
Was full of rich stones fret ;
Her goodly semblance by devise,
I trow was made in paradise,
For nature had ne'er such a grace
To forge a work of such compasce.
For certain, but if the letter lie,
God himself, that is so high,
Made her after his image,
And gave her then such advantage,
That she hath might and seignory
To keep men from all folly :
Whoso will believe her lore-
Not may offenden never more.
AUTHOR UNKNOWN.
See Hume, Ch. xvii.
When Adam delved, and Eve span,
Where was then the gentleman ?
GEORGE GASCOIGNE. [Died 1577
[After the Golden Verses of Pythagoras.]
When thou hast spent the lingering day
In pleasure and delight,
Or after toil and weary way
Does seek to rest at night;
Unto thy pains or pleasures past
Add this one labour yet,
Ere sleep close up thine eye
Do not thy God forget.
But search within thy secret thought
What deeds did thee befall;
And if thou find amiss in aught
To God for mercy call,
Yea, though thou find nothing amiss
Which thou canst call to mind,
Yet evermore remember this,
There is the more behind.
And think! how well soe'er it be
That thou hast spent the day,
It came of God and not of thee
So to direct thy way;
Thus if thou try thy daily deeds
And pleasure in this pain,
Thy life shall cleanse thy corn from weeds,
And thine shall be the gain.
RICHARD EDWARDS. [1523-1566
Nearly as SONG in Percy.
'Why Silver Sound?"-PETER, in Romeo and Juliet, iv 5. When griping grief the heart doth wound, And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound
With speedy help doth lend redress;
Of troubled minds, in every sore
Sweet music hath a salve in store.
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