The poetical works of Geoffrey Chaucer: Remaunt of the rose. The minor poems

Front Cover
H. Frowde, Oxford University Press, 1906

From inside the book

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 248 - 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 253 - 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 247 - ... 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 204 - So sore y-wis, that whan I on him thinke, Nat wot I wel wher that I wake or winke.
Page 253 - 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 249 - 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 249 - 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 248 - 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 204 - 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.
Page 223 - Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe, That hast this wintres weders over-shake, And driven awey the longe nightes blake...

Bibliographic information