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Chaucer for Children [Selected from the Canterbury Tales and Minor Poems ...
No preview available - 2015
answered Arcite armour arms Arviragus Athens Aurelius beautiful brother Canterbury Canterbury Tales Chaucer Clerk cloth colour court cried death deed deth doon Dorigene doth dress duke Emelye English eyes F. J. Furnivall fair Friar Geoffrey Chaucer Glossary gold green gret Griselda hath heart herte hire honour horse John of Gaunt King knew knight Knight's Tale lady lived look lord marquis married never noble nought Palamon Palamon and Arcite Petrarch Philippa Philostrate poor pray Queen quod quoth rich ride rode sayde schal sche slain slay Sompnour splendid belt squire story Summoner tabard tale tell thay Thebes thee ther Theseus thing Thomas Chaucer thou art thou shalt thought told trouthe tyme Tyrwhitt unto Walter wepne whan wife Wife of Bath wolde word young
Page 17 - Embrouded was he, as it were a mede Al ful of fresshe floures, whyte and rede.
Page 14 - And bathed every veyne in swich licour, Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his sweete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes...
Page 19 - But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed, Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte: And al was conscience and tendre herte.
Page 42 - Ligurge him-self, the grete king of Trace; Blak was his berd, and manly was his face. The cercles of his eyen in his heed, They gloweden...
Page 32 - May with flowers new, (For with the rosy colour strove her hue ; I n'ot which was the finer of them two) Ere it was day, as she was wont to do, She was arisen and...
Page 59 - Sompnour in his styrop up he stood, Upon the Frere his herte was so wood, That lyk an aspen leef he quok for ire.
Page 19 - And sikerly she was of greet desport, And ful plesaunt, and amyable of port, And peyned hire to countrefete cheere Of court, and to been estatlich of manere, And to ben holden digne of reverence.
Page 98 - That thee is sent receive in buxomness ; The wrestling of this world asketh a fall ; Here is no home, here is but wilderness ; Forth, pilgrim, forth, O beast out of thy stall; Look up on high, and thank thy God of all ; Waiveth thy lust and let thy ghost thee lead, And truth thee shall deliver 'tis no drede.
Page 96 - Upon my trouth I sey yow feithfully, That ye ben of my liffe and deth the quene ; For with my deth the trouth shal be sene. Youre two eyn, &c. II. 1. So hath youre beauty fro your herte chased Pitee, that me n ' availeth not to pleyn : For daunger halt your mercy in his cheyne.