The firste stock-father of gentleness,
What man desireth gentle for to be,
21 lines, 2 comments
Sometime this world was so steadfast and stable,
That man's word was held obligation;
32 lines, 2 comments
They had a cook with them who stood alone
For boiling chicken with a marrow-bone,
6 lines
Youre two eyn will sle me sodenly
I may the beaute of them not sustene,
43 lines
Madame, for youre newefangelnesse,
Many a servant have ye put out of grace.
21 lines, 5 comments
Incipit carmen secundum ordinem litterarum alphabeti.
185 lines, 1 comment
Thou ferse god of armes, Mars the rede,
That in the frosty contre called Trace,
367 lines
HYD, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere;
Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-doun;
21 lines
THE PROEM
I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
1337 lines, 4 comments
When priestes failen in their saws,
And lordes turne Godde's laws
17 lines, 2 comments
Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee befall
Boece or Troilus for to write anew,
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This wrecched worldes transmutacioun,
As wele or wo, now povre and now honour,
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The firste stok, fader of gentilesse --
What man that desireth gentil for to be
20 lines
Flee from the press, and dwell with soothfastness;
Suffice thee thy good, though it be small;
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My Master Bukton, when of Christ our King
Was asked, What is truth or soothfastness?
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Almighty and all-merciable Queen,
To whom all this world fleeth for succour,
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Somtyme the world was so stedfast and stable
That mannes word was obligacioun,
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Your eyen two wol slee me sodenly,
I may the beaute of hem not sustene,
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What should these clothes thus manifold,
Lo! this hot summer's day?
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Syn I fro love escaped am so fat,
I nere thinke to ben in his prison lene;
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Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;
Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;
14 lines, 3 comments
Now welcome Summer with thy sunne soft,
That hast this winter`s weathers overshake,
13 lines, 1 comment
Since I from Love escaped am so fat,
I ne'er think to be in his prison ta'en;
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soon to be linked to the individual parts of the Tales
1 lines, 1 comment
PROLOGUE TO THE MILLERES TALE
108 lines, 1 comment
Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
948 lines, 7 comments
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