Chaucer & His Poetry

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C.G. Harrap, 1914 - Poets, English - 218 pages

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Page 166 - What sholde I moore unto this tale sayn ? The peple out sterte and caste the cart to grounde, And in the myddel of the dong they founde The dede man, that mordred was al newe. " O blisful God, that art so just and trewe ! Lo, how that thou biwreyest...
Page 130 - And she was cleped madame Eglentyne. Ful weel she soong the service dyvyne, Entuned in hir nose ful semely...
Page 127 - A knyght ther was, and that a worthy man, That fro the tyme that he first bigan To riden out, he loved chivalrie, Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisie.
Page 135 - As leene was his hors as is a rake, And he nas nat right fat, I undertake, But looked holwe, and therto sobrely.
Page 138 - And if ther dide, certeyn so wrooth was she That she was out of alle charitee. Hir coverchiefs...
Page 164 - graunt mercy of youre loore, But nathelees, as touchyng Daun Catoun, That hath of wysdom swich a greet renoun, Though that he bad no dremes for to drede, By God, men may in olde bookes rede Of many a man moore of...
Page 143 - Now, lordinges, trewely, Ye been to me right welcome hertely: For by my trouthe, if that I shal nat lye, I ne saugh this yeer so mery a companye At ones in this herberwe as is now. Fayn wolde I doon yow mirthe, wiste I how. And of a mirthe I am right now bithoght, To doon yow ese, and it shal coste noght.
Page 138 - And yet he was but esy of. dispence; He kepte that he wan in pestilence; For gold in phisik is a cordial : Therfore he lovede gold in special. A good WIF was ther OF biside BATHE, 445 But she was somdel deef, and that was scathe. Of clooth-makyng she hadde swich an haunt, She passed hem of Ypres and of Gaunt.
Page 133 - A love-knotte in the gretter ende ther was. His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas, And eek his face, as he hadde been enoynt. He was a lord ful fat and in good poynt...
Page 132 - A manly man, to been an abbot able. Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable: And, whan he rood, men mighte his brydel here Ginglen in a whistling wind...

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