#EnglishWriters
Incipit carmen secundum ordinem li… Almighty and al merciable q… To whom that al this world fleeth… To have relees of sinne, of sorwe,… Glorious virgine, of alle floures…
A Balade. Ma dame, ye ben of al beaute shryn… As fer as cercled is the mapamonde… For as the cristall glorious ye sh… And lyke ruby ben your chekys roun…
With this he took his leve, and ho… And lord, so he was glad and wel b… Criseyde aroos, no lenger she ne s… But streght in-to hire closet went… And set hire doun as stylle as any…
Proverbe of Chaucer What shul these clothes thus manyf… Lo this hote somers day? After grete hete cometh cold; No man caste his pilche away.
This wrecched worldes transmutacio… As wele or wo, now povre and now h… Withouten ordre or wys discrecioun Governed is by Fortunes errour. But natheles, the lak of hir favou…
The firste stock-father of gentlen… What man desireth gentle for to be… Must follow his trace, and all his… Virtue to love, and vices for to f… For unto virtue longeth dignity,
The minister and norice* unto vice… Which that men call in English id… The porter at the gate is of delic… T’eschew, and by her contrar’ her… That is to say, by lawful business…
THE PROEM I have gret wonder, be this lighte… How that I live, for day ne night… I may nat slepe wel nigh noght, I have so many an ydel thoght
Syn I fro love escaped am so fat, I nere thinke to ben in his prison… Syn I am fre, I count hym not a b… He may answere, and sey this and t… I do no fors, I speke ryght as I…
Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee b… Boece or Troilus for to write ane… Under thy long locks thou may’st h… But after my making thou write mor… So oft a day I must thy work rene…
Fle fro the pres, and dwelle with… Suffise thin owen thing, thei it b… For hord hath hate, and clymbyng t… Prees hath envye, and wele blent o… Savour no more thanne the byhove s…
‘Weeping and wailing, care and oth… I have enough, on even and on morr… Quoth the Merchant, 'and so have… That wedded be; I trow* that it b… For well I wot it fareth so by me…
The double 12 sorwe of Troilus to… That was the king Priamus sone of… In lovinge, how his aventures fell… Fro wo to wele, and after out of… My purpos is, er that I parte fro…
FLY from the press, and dwell wit… Suffice unto thy good, though it b… For hoard hath hate, and climbing… Preise hath envie, and weal is ble… Savor no more than thee behoven sh…
Your yën two wol sle me soden… I may the beaute of hem not susten… So woundeth hit through-out my her… And but your word wol helen hastil… My hertes wounde, whyl that hit is…