Geoffrey Chaucer,
Chaucer's Works (ed. Skeat) Vol…
(1899)
“ And seyde, 'hit stondeth writen in thy face, 155 Thyn errour, though thou telle it not to me; But dred thee nat to come in-to this place, For this wryting is no-thing ment by thee, Ne by noon, but he Loves servant be; For thou of love hast lost thy tast, I gesse, 160 As seek man hath of swete and bitternesse. ”
Geoffrey Chaucer,
Chaucer's Works (ed. Skeat) Vol…
(1899)
“ For every foul cryeth out to been a-go 465 Forth with his make, or with his lady dere; And eek Nature hir-self ne wol nought here, For tarying here, noght half that I wolde seye; And but I speke, I mot for sorwe deye. Of long servyse avaunte I me no-thing, 470 But as possible is me to dye to-day For wo, as he that hath ben languisshing Thise twenty winter, and wel happen may A man may serven bet and more to pay In half a yere, al-though hit were no more, 475 Than som man doth that hath served ful yore. ”
Geoffrey Chaucer,
Chaucer's Works (ed. Skeat) Vol…
(1899)
“ But to the poynt—Nature held on hir honde A formel egle, of shap the gentileste That ever she among hir werkes fonde, The most benigne and the goodlieste; 375 In hir was every vertu at his reste, So ferforth, that Nature hir-self had blisse To loke on hir, and ofte hir bek to kisse. Nature, the vicaire of thalmyghty lorde, That hoot, cold, hevy, light, [and] moist and dreye 380 Hath knit by even noumbre of acorde, In esy vois began to speke and seye, Foules, tak hede of my sentence, I preye, And, for your ese, in furthering of your nede, As faste as I may speke, I wol me spede. ”
