The Poetry of Chaucer: A Guide to Its Study and Appreciation

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Houghton Mifflin, 1922 - Broj stranica: 306
 

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Stranica 1 - FORGET six counties overhung with smoke, Forget the snorting steam and piston stroke, Forget the spreading of the hideous town; Think rather of the pack-horse on the down, And dream of London, small, and white, and clean, The clear Thames bordered by its gardens green...
Stranica 128 - For whan thy labour doon al is, And hast y-maad thy rekeninges, In stede of reste and newe thinges, Thou gost hoom to thy hous anoon; And, also domb as any stoon, Thou sittest at another boke, Til fully daswed is thy loke, And livest thus as an hermyte, Although thyn abstinence is lyte.
Stranica 288 - Wherfore I biseke yow mekely, for the mercy of God, that ye preye for me that Crist have mercy on me and foryeve me my giltes; / and namely of my translacions and...
Stranica 229 - But yet to me she wol nat do that grace, For which ful pale and welked is my face.
Stranica 267 - Such notes as warbled to the string, Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek, And made Hell grant what love did seek. Or call up him that left half told The story of Cambuscan bold, Of Camball, and of Algarsife, And who had Canace to wife, That owned the virtuous ring and glass, And of the wondrous horse of brass, On which the Tartar king did ride...
Stranica 147 - And to hem yive I feyth and ful credence, And in myn herte have hem in reverence So hertely, that ther is game noon That fro my bokes maketh me to goon...
Stranica 30 - And eek be war to sporne ageyn an al; Stryve noght, as doth the crokke with the wal. Daunte thy-self, that dauntest otheres dede; And trouthe shal delivere, hit is no drede.
Stranica 86 - I nam but a lewd compilatour of the labour of olde Astrologiens, and have hit translated 45 in myn English only for thy doctrine ; and with this swerd shal I sleen envye.
Stranica 172 - What is this world? what asketh men to have? Now with his love, now in his colde grave Allone, with-outen any companye.
Stranica 217 - And with that word he fley doun fro the beem, For it was day, and eek his hennes alle; And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, For he had founde a corn, lay in the yerd.

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