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.

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…

My son, keep well thy tongue, and… A wicked tongue is worse than a fi… My son, from a fiend men may them… My son, God of his endless goodne… Walled a tongue with teeth and lip…

A. Almighty and all-merciable Queen, To whom all this world fleeth for… To have release of sin, of sorrow,… Glorious Virgin! of all flowers f…

Compleyne ne koude, ne might myn h… My peynes halve, ne what torment… Though that I sholde in your pres… Myn hertes lady, as wisly he me sa… That Bountee made, and Beautee li…

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…

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…

Pite, that I have sought so yore… With herte soore and ful of besy p… That in this world was never wight… Withoute deth—and yf I shal not f… My purpos was to Pite to compleyn…

In days of old there lived, of mig… A valiant Prince, and Theseus was… A chief, who more in feats of arms… The rising nor the setting sun beh… Of Athens he was lord; much land…

O Yonge fresshe folkes, he or she… In which that love up groweth with… Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanite… And of your herte up-casteth the v… To thilke god that after his image

WHEN said was this miracle, ever… As sober* was, that wonder was to… Till that our Host to japen* he b… And then *at erst* he looked upon… And saide thus; ‘What man art tho…

BOOK I Incipit liber primus. God turne us every dreem to gode! For hit is wonder, be the rode, To my wit, what causeth swevens Either on morwes, or on evens;

Adam scriveyn, if ever it thee bif… Boece or Troylus for to wryten ne… Under thy long lokkes thou most ha… But after my makyng thow wryte mor… So ofte adaye I mot thy werk rene…

When priestes failen in their saws… And lordes turne Godde’s laws Against the right; And lechery is holden as privy sol… And robbery as free purchase,

Whan that Aprille with his shoure… The droghte of March hath perced… And bathed every veyne in swich li… Of which vertú engendred is the fl… Whan Zephirus eek with his swete…