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ageyn alwey anoon Bialacoil certes chere clothing coude Daunger dede deed dere deth doon doth doun drede fair falle fals fele finde folk foul goon grace greet gret hadde harm hast hath helpe herde holde honde hope joye kepe knowe lady laste leve litel live lord lovers maner myn herte Nature never night no-thing noon nought ofte peyne pitee pleyne pore quod rede riche richesse roses seen seide seyde seyn shal shame shulde Sith slepe sone sore sorwe sothe speke swete swich thee ther therfore thing thou Thou shalt thought thurgh thyn took trewe trouthe trowe tyme unto wente whan who-so wight withoute withouten wolde wonder wyse y-wis yeve Youthe
Page 266 - Sin I fro Love escaped am so fat, I never thenk to ben in his prison lene ; Sin I am free, I counte him not a bene.
Page 271 - Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable ; Vertu hath now no dominacioun, Pitee exyled, no man is merciable. Through covetyse is blent discrecioun ; The world hath mad a permutacioun Fro right to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelnesse, That al is lost, for lak of stedfastnesse.
Page 265 - ... your word wol helen hastily My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is grene, Your yen two wol slee me sodenly, I may the beaute of hem not sustene. Upon my trouthe I sey yow feithfully, That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene ; For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene. Your...
Page 222 - So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thinke, Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or winke.
Page 271 - Son tyme this world was so stedfast and stable, That mannes word was obligacioun, And now hit is so fals and deceivable, That word and deed, as in conclusioun, Ben no-thing lyk, for turned up so doun Is al this world for mede and wilfulnesse, That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse.
Page 267 - That at a revel whan that I see you daunce, It is an oynement unto my wounde, Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce. For...
Page 267 - Thogh ye to me ne do no daliaunce." Nas never pyk walwed in galauntyne As I in love am walwed and ywounde, For which ful ofte I of myself devyne That I am trewe Tristam the secounde.
Page 266 - So greet beaute, that no man may atteyne To mercy, though he sterve for the peyne. So hath your beaut'e fro your herte chaced Pitee, that me ne availeth not to pleyne ; 25 For Daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.
Page 222 - For out of olde feldes, as men seith, Cometh al this newe corn fro yeer to yere ; And out of olde bokes, in good feith, Cometh al this newe science that men lere.