Imatges de pàgina
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Of love, of hate, and other sondry thynges,
Of whiche I may not maken rehersynges.
And yf that olde bokes were awey,
Ylorne were of remembraunce the key.
Wel ought us, thanne, honouren and beleve
These bokes, there we han noon other preve.
And as for me, though that I konne but
lyte,1

On bokes for to rede I me delyte,

And to hem give I feyth and ful credence,
And in myn herte have hem in reverence
So hertely, that ther is game noon
That fro my bokes maketh me to goon,
But yt be seldom on the holy day,

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Save, certeynly, whan that the monethe of May Is comen, and that I here the foules 2 synge, And that the floures gynnen for to sprynge, Fairewel my boke, and my devocioun !

8

Now have I thanne suche a condicioun, 40

That of alle the floures in the mede,

Thanne love I most thise floures white and

rede,

Suche as men callen daysyes in her toune.
To hem have I so grete affeccioun,

As I seyde erst, whanne comen is the May,
That in my bed ther daweth me no day,
That I nam uppe and walkyng in the mede,
To seen this floure agein the sonne sprede,
Whan it up rysith erly by the morwe;

4

1 Know but little. 2 Birds. 3 Temperament. Towards.

OF ALLE FLOURES FLOUR."

That blisful sight softneth al my sorwe,
So glad am I, whan that I have presence
Of it, to doon it alle reverence,

As she that is of alle floures flour,
Fulfilled of al vertue and honour,

And evere ilike faire, and fresshe of hewe.
And I love it, and evere ylike newe,
And ever shal, til that myn herte dye;
Al swere I nat of this I wol nat lye -

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Ther lovede no wight hotter in his lyve.

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And, whan that hit ys eve, I renne blyve, 60 As sone as evere the sonne gynneth weste,1 To seen this flour, how it wol go to reste, For fere of nyght, so hateth she derkenesse ! Hire chere is pleynly sprad in the bright

nesse

Of the sonne, for ther yt wol unclose.

Allas, that I ne had Englyssh, ryme or prose,
Suffisant this flour to preyse aryght!

But helpeth ye that han konnyng and myght,
Ye lovers, that kan make of sentement;
In this case oghten ye be diligent

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To forthren me somwhat in my labour, Whethir ye ben with the "leef" or with the "flour,"

For wel I wot, that ye han herbiforne

Of makynge ropen,* and lad awey the corne; And I come after, glenyng here and there, And am ful glad yf I may fynde an ere

1 To west. 2 Face. 8 Knowledge. Reaped of poetry.

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Of any goodly word that ye han left.

And thogh it happen me rehercen eft1
That ye han in your fresshe songes sayede,
Forbereth me, and beth not evele apayede,2 80
Syn that ye see I do yt in the honour

3

Of love, and eke in service of the flour
Whom that I serve as I have witte or myght.
She is the clerenesse and the verray lyght,
That in this derke worlde me wynt and ledyth,
The hert in-with my sorwful brest yow* dredith,
And loveth so sore, that ye ben verrayly
The maistresse of my witte, and nothing I.
My worde, my werkes, ys knyt so in youre

bond

That as an harpe obeieth to the hond,

That maketh it soune after his fyngerynge,

Ryght so mowe ye oute of myn herte bringe

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Swich vois, ryght as yow lyst, to laughe or

pleyne ;

Be ye myn gide, and lady sovereyne.

As to my erthely god, to yowe I calle,

Bothe in this werke, and in my sorwes alle.
But wherfore that I spake to give credence
To olde stories, and doon hem reverence,
And that men mosten more thyng beleve
Then they may seen at eighe or elles preve,
That shal I seyn, whanne that I see my tyme
I may nat all attones speke in ryme.
My besy gost, that trusteth alwey newe,

Again. 2 Dissatisfied. Turneth. You, i. e., the flower

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THE RESURRECCIOUN OF THIs flour." 83

To seen this flour so yong, so fresshe of hewe,
Constreynede me with so gledy1 desire,

That in myn herte I feele yet the fire,
That made me to ryse er yt wer day,

And this was now the firste morwe of May,
With dredful hert, and glad devocioun
For to ben at the resurreccioun

Of this flour, whan that yt shulde unclose

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Agayne the sonne, that roos as rede as rose, That in the brest was of the beste,3 that day, That Agenores doghtre ladde away.

4

And doune on knes anoon ryght I me sette,
And as I koude, this fresshe flour I grette,
Knelyng alwey, til it unclosed was,

Upon the smale, softe, swote gras,

That was with floures swote enbrouded al,
Of swich swetnesse, and swich odour over-al,
That for to speke of gomme, or herbe, or tree,
Comparisoun may noon ymaked be;
For yt surmounteth pleynly alle odoures,
ind of riche beaute alle floures.

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'orgeten hadde the erthe his pore estate of wyntir, that him naked made and mate," nd with his swerd of colde so sore greved; ow hath thatempre sonne alle that releved 'hat naked was, and clad yt new agayne. The smale foules, of the sesoun fayne, 130 That of the panter and the nette ben scaped,

Burning (glede, a burning coal). Towards. Taurus. 4 Thai Europa. Dejected. Snare 'Fr. bantière, net).

Upon the foulere, that hem made awhaped1
In wynter, and distroyed hadde hire broode,
In his dispite hem thoghte yt did hem goode
To synge of hym, and in hir songe dispise
The foule cherle, that, for his coveytise,
Had hem betrayed with his sophistrye.
This was hire songe, "The foweler we deffye,
And al his crafte." And somme songen clere
Layes of love, that joye it was to here,

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In worshippynge and in preysing of hir make;
And, for the newe blisful somers sake,
Upon the braunches ful of blosmes softe,
In hire delyt, they turned hem ful ofte,
And songen," Blessed be Seynt Valentyne !
For on his day I chees yow to be myne,
Withouten repentyng, myne herte swete !"
And therewithalle hire bekes gonnen meete,
Yeldyng honour and humble obeysaunces
To love, and diden hir othere observaunces 150
That longeth onto love, and to nature;
Construeth that as yow lyst, I do no cure.

And thoo that hadde doon unkyndenesse,♦-
As dooth the tydif," for newfangelnesse, -
Besoghte mercy of hire trespassynge,
And humblely songe hire repentynge,
And sworen on the blosmes to be trewe,
So that hire makes wolde upon hem rewe,
And at the laste maden hire acorde.

1 Confounded. 2 Their mates. 8 Cf. Parlement of Foules, 1. 45 Unnatural deeds. 5 Cf. Canterbury Tales, 1. 15,424.

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