Изображения страниц

Ore ai mostré un poi de pas

où amour est foundé ;
En ce vers trover purras
si tu les as bien gardé ;
A toun ami ne diez pas

quanque son cuer agrée,
Mès ce qe à soun honour verras,
si en ert amour payé.

Ore pri à tous lais e clers,
si ne me chant qe loye,
Qe nul ne prenge le travers,
de fyn amour verroie ;
Car leal cuer n'est pas divers,

eynz ayme droite voie ;
Ly tu autem est en ce vers,

ly respounz soit de joye. AMEN.


[Fol. 62 vo.]

MIDDEL-ERD for mon wes mad,

un-mihti aren is meste mede ; This hedy hath on honde y-had, that hevene hem is hest to hede: Icherde a blisse budel us bad,

the dreri domes-dai to drede,

Of sunful sauhting sone be sad,

that derne doth this derne dede; thah he ben derne done,

This wrakeful werkes under wede

in soule soteleth sone.

Sone is sotel, as ich ou sai,

this sake al thah hit seme suete,

That itelle a povre play,

that furst is feir ant seththe un-sete;

This wilde wille went a-wai,

with mone and mournyng muchel un-mete,

That livith in likyng out of lay,

his hap he deth ful harde on hete,

azeynz he howeth henne;

Alle is thrivene thewes threte,

that thenketh nout on thenne.

Azeynes thenne us threteth thre,

zef he beth thryven ant thowen in theode, Ur soule bone so broerh be,

as berne best that bale for-beode;

That wole wihtstonden streynthe of theo,

is rest is reved with the reode,

Fyth of other ne darth he fleo,

that fleishshes faunyng furst for-eode,

that falsist is of fyve;

zef we leveth eny leode,

werryng is worst of wyve.

Wyves wille were ded wo,

3ef he is wicked forte welde, That burst shal bete for hem bo,

he shal him burewen thah he hire bel

By body ant soule y sugge al so,

that some beoth founden under felde, That hath to fere is meste fo,

of gomenes he mai gon al gelde,
ant sore ben fered on folde,

Lest he to harmes helde,

ant happes hente un-holde.

Hom un-holdest her is on,

with-outen helle, ase ich hit holde, So fele bueth founden monnes fon, the furst of hem biforen y tolde, Ther after-ward this worldes won,

with muchel un-wynne us woren wolde;

Sone beth this gomenes gon,

that maketh us so brag ant bolde,

ant biddeth us ben blythe;

An ende he casteth ous fol colde, in sunne ant sorewe sythe.

In sunne ant sorewe y am seint,
that siweth me so fully sore;
My murthe is al with mournyng meind,
ne may ich mythen hit namore;

When we beth with this world for-wleynt,

that we ne lustneth lyves lore,

The fend in fyht us fynt so feynt,

we falleth so flour when hit is frore,
for folkes fader al fleme;

Wo him wes y-warpe zore,
that Crist nul nowyht queme!

To queme Crist we weren y-core,
ant kend ys craftes forte knowe;
we nout we buen for-lore,
in lustes thah we lyggen lowe;
We shule aryse ur fader byfore,

thah fon us fallen umbe throwe,
To borewen us alle he wes y-bore,
this bounyng when him bemes blowe,
he byt us buen of hyse;

Ant on ys ryht hond hente rowe, wyth ryhtwyse men to aryse.




[Fol. 63, ro.]

burde in a bour ase beryl so bryht,

Ase saphyr in selver semly on sylt,

Ase jaspe the gentil that lemeth with lylit,


gernet in golde, ant ruby wel ryht,

Ase onycle he ys on y-holden on hyht,

Ase diamaunde the dere in day when he is dyht, He is coral y-cud with cayser ant knyht,

Ase emeraude a-morewen this may haveth myht. The myht of the margarite haveth this may mere, For charbocle ich hire ches bi chyn ant by chere.

Hire rode is ase rose that red is on rys,
With lilye-white leres lossum he is,

The primerole he passeth, the parvenke of pris,
With alisaundre thare-to, ache ant anys,
Coynte ase columbine, such hire cunde ys,
Glad under gore in gro ant in grys,

He is blosme opon bleo brihtest under bis,
With celydoyne ant sauge, ase thou thi self sys.
That syht upon that semly, to blis he is broht,
He is solsecle, to sanne ys for-soht.

He is papejai in pyn that beteth me my bale,
To trewe tortle in a tour, y telle the mi tale,
He is thrustle thryven in thro that singeth in sale,
The wilde laveroc ant wole ant the wodewale,
He is faucoun in friht dernest in dale,
Ant with everuch a gome gladest in gale,
From Weye he is wisist into Wyrhale, w
Hire nome is in a note of the nyhtegale.
In annote is hire nome, nempneth hit non,
Whose ryht redeth ronne to Johon.

Muge he is ant mondrake, thouh miht of the mone, Trewe triacle y-told with tonges in trone,

Such licoris mai leche from lyve to lone,

Such sucre mon secheth that saveth men sone,

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »