Chief British Poets of the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries: Selected Poems

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Houghton Mifflin, 1916 - English poetry - 442 pages

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Page 292 - Up then crew the red, red cock, And up and crew the gray; The eldest to the youngest said,
Page 266 - I dought neither speak to prince or peer, Nor ask of grace from fair ladye.' 'Now hold thy peace!' the lady said, 'For as I say, so must it be.' He has gotten a coat of the even cloth, And a pair of shoes of velvet green ; And till seven years were gane and past, True Thomas on earth was never seen.
Page 139 - cok, cok," and up he sterte, As man that was affrayed in his herte. For...
Page 246 - Merry Margaret, As midsummer flower, Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower: With solace and gladness, Much mirth and no madness, All good and no badness; So joyously, So maidenly, So womanly Her demeaning In every thing, Far, far passing That I can indite, Or suffice to write Of Merry Margaret As midsummer flower Gentle as falcon Or hawk of the tower.
Page 93 - Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun, To telle yow al the condicioun Of ech of hem, so as it semed me, And whiche they weren, and of what degree ; And eek in what array that they were inne : And at a knight than wol I first biginne.
Page 262 - In behint yon auld fail dyke I wot there lies a new-slain knight ; And naebody kens that he lies there But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair. " His hound is to the hunting gane, His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame, His lady's ta'en another mate, So we may mak our dinner sweet. " Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane, And I'll pike out his bonny blue een : Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.
Page 326 - O I'm come to seek my former vows Ye granted me before.' ' O hold your tongue of your former vows, For they will breed sad strife ; 0 hold your tongue of your former vows, For I am become a wife.
Page 305 - Now Robin Hood is to Nottingham gone, With a link, a down, and a ' day,' And there he met with a silly old palmer, Was walking along the highway. " What news ? what news ? thou silly old man, What news, I do thee pray ? " Said he, Three squires in Nottingham town, Are condemn'd to die this day.
Page 264 - Here is a royal brand," she said, "That I have found in the green sea; And while your body it is on, Drawn shall your blood never be; But if you touch me, tail or fin, I swear my brand your death shall be.
Page 102 - In Southwerk, at this gentil hostelrye, That highte the Tabard, faste by the Belle.

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