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ageyn anoon beauté Bialacoil blame chere clere Daunger dede dere deth doth doun drede evere faire falle folk freend fulle fynde gold grace grene gret grete hadde harme hast hath heere helpe herte holde honde hope iwys kepe knewe knowe lady laste late leve lovers lust lyve maist makith maner mote myght myn herte never noon nought nygh nyght ofte peyne pleyne rede riche richesse rose Ryght sawe seide sene servise sette seyn shal shame shulde Sith sore soth swete Thanne thee ther therfore thilke thing thou shalt thought thurgh thyng trewe trouthe trowe tyme unto Venus wele wente whan Whanne who-so wight wise withoute withouten wolde wole wote wrought yeve
Seite 294 - For whiche un-to your mercy thus I crye: Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye!
Seite 5 - And whan I had a while goon, I saugh a gardyn right anoon, Ful long and brood, and euerydell Enclosed was, and walled well With highe walles enbatailled, Portraied without and wel entailled 140 With many riche portraitures.
Seite 5 - The watir that so wel lyked me ; And wondir glad was I to se That lusty place, and that ryvere ; And with that watir that ran so clere My face I wissh.
Seite 294 - And saveour, as doun in this worlde here, Oute of this toune helpe me thurgh your myght, Syn that ye wole nat bene my tresorere; For I am shave as nye as any frere.
Seite 236 - And by a ryver forth I gan costey, Of water clere as berel or cristal...
Seite 266 - THE ordre of compleynt requireth skylfully, That yf a wight shal pleyne pitously, Ther mot be cause wherfore that men pleyne, Other men may deme he pleyneth folely, And causeles.
Seite 4 - Joly and gay, ful of gladnesse, Toward a ryver gan I me dresse, That I herd renne faste by ; For fairer playing non saugh I Than playen me by that ryvere, For from an hille that stood ther nere, Cam doun the streme ful stif and bold, Cleer was the water, and as cold As any welle is, sooth to...
Seite 302 - Humblesse, and pease, good fayth the emprise. " Yit was not Jupiter the likerous, That first was fadyr of delicacye Come in thys world, ne Nembroth desirous To raygne hadde not made hys towrys hyghe. Alas ! alas ! now may men wepe and crye, For in owre days is not but covetyse, Doublenesse, treson, and envye, Poysonne, manslawtyr, mordre in sondri wyse.