The Not-Browne Mayd (Anonymous Olde English Poems)
Be it ryght or wrong, these men amongOn women do complayne;Affyrmynge this, how that it isA labour spent in vayneTo ...
Be it ryght or wrong, these men amongOn women do complayne;Affyrmynge this, how that it isA labour spent in vayneTo ...
Our king he kept a false stewarde,Sir Aldingar they him call;A falser steward than he was one,Servde not in bower ...
IT was the time, when rest soft sliding downeFrom heauens hight into mens heauy eyes,In the forgetfulnes of sleepe doth ...
Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awayeYe poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a merrie ...
Childe Waters in his stable stoodeAnd stroakt his milke-white steede; To him a fayre yonge ladye cameAs ever ware womans ...
On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne,This sore battayle was doom'd to bee,Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!Alacke, it was the ...
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee—"Now marke this rede," they bade her oft, ...
Truth"God speed you, ancient father, And give you a good daye;What is the cause, I praye you,So sadly here you ...
Gentle heardsman, tell to me,Of curtesy I thee pray,Unto the towne of WalsinghamWhich is the right and ready way."Unto the ...
Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,— Lie in my arms and dinna greit;Long time been past syn I kenned ...
Last night, whiles that the curfew bell ben ringing,I heard a moder to her dearie singing ...
Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night,For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white,And yonder sings ...
Glomie Winter raign'd as King,Hoarie frost did nip each thing:Fields look'd naked now and bare,Fields which like a Chaos were.Earth ...
Iesu, swete sone dere!On porful bed list thou here,And that me greveth sore;For thi cradel is ase a bere,Oxe and ...
O for a Booke and a shadie nook.Eyther in-a doore or out;With the grene leaves whispering overhede,Or the Streets crys ...
Come hither, lyttel childe, and lie upon my breast to-night, For yonder fares an angell yclad in raimaunt white, And ...
At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft, Ffor that a romping wench was shee-- "Now marke this rede," they bade her ...
Lie in my arms, Ailsie, my bairn,-- Lie in my arms and dinna greit; Long time been past syn I ...
Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awaye Ye poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a ...
The double 12 sorwe of Troilus to tellen, That was the king Priamus sone of Troye, In lovinge, how his ...
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
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