Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50)

by Homer

  Pensive he came, and forth his sighs did break;

  Not to see folk, his head bowed down he had.

  When me he saw, by name he called to me,

  And said, “I come from that far distant part

  Where through my will thy heart did dwell of late.

  I bring it now on new delight to wait.”

  Thereon I took of him so great a part

  That quick he vanished; how, I did not see.

  XII.

  Ballad, I send thee forth upon Love’s trace,

  For thou must him before my Lady bring,

  So that of my excuse, which thou dost sing,

  My Lord may then with her speak face to face.

  Such courteous aspect, Ballad, thou dost show,

  That all alone, indeed,

  Thou oughtest not in any place to fear;

  But if securely thou dost wish to go,

  First to find Love is need,

  For ill it were without Him to appear;

  Seeing that she who ought thy words to hear,

  If she be angry, as I think, with me,

  And thou with Him companioned should not be,

  Might lightly make thee fall into disgrace.

  With dulcet sound, when with Him thou mayst be,

  Begin with words like these,

  First begging her that she would pity take: —

  ”Lady, he who to you now sendeth me

  Wills, when to you it please,

  That his excuse you deign to hear me make.

  Love is that one who, for thy beauty’s sake,

  Makes him, as He doth will, his looks to change;

  Then why He made his eyes on others range.

  Think you, since in his heart no change hath place.”

  Tell her: “O Lady, this his heart is stayed

  With faith so firmly just,

  Save to serve you, it hath no other care.

  Early ‘t was yours, and never hath it strayed.”

  But if she thee distrust,

  Say, “Ask of Love, who will the truth declare.”

  And at the end, beg her, with humble prayer,

  That if it trouble her to pardon give,

  She then should bid that I no longer live,

  Nor shall she see her servant sue for grace.

  And say to Him who is compassion’s key,

  Ere from her thou depart,

  That He may tell her of my reason fair, —

  ”Through favor unto my sweet melody,

  Stay with her where thou art,

  And of thy servant, what thou wilt, declare,

  And if she grant forgiveness through they prayer,

  Make peace on her fair countenance to shine.”

  When it may please thee, gentle Ballad mine,

  Honor to win, go forth upon thy race.

  XV.

  That which opposeth in my mind doth die

  Whene’er I come to see you, beauteous Joy!

  And I hear Love say, when to you I ‘m nigh,

  ”Begone, if death be unto thee annoy.”

  My face the color of my heart displays,

  Which, fainting, nay chance support doth seek;

  And as I tremble in my drunken daze,

  ”Die! die!” the very stones appear to shriek.

  He who may then behold me doeth ill,

  If my affrighted soul he comfort not,

  Showing at least that me he pitieth,

  Through that compassion which your scorn doth kill,

  And which is by the lifeless look begot

  Of eyes which have a longing for their death.

  XIX.

  Ladies that have intelligence of Love,

  I of my lady wish with you to speak;

  Not that I can believe to end her praise,

  But to discourse that I may ease my mind.

  I say that when I think upon her worth,

  So sweet doth Love make himself feel to me,

  That if I then should lose not hardihood,

  Speaking, I should enamour all mankind.

  And I wish not so loftily to speak

  As to become, through fear of failure, vile;

  But of her gentle nature I will treat

  In manner light compared with her desert,

  Ye loving dames and damosels, with you,

  For ‘t is not thing of which to speak to others.

  An angel crieth in the mind divine,

  And saith: “O Sire, on earth is to be seen

  A miracle in action, that proceeds

  From out a soul which far as here doth shine.

  Heaven, which hath not any other defect

  Save want of her, demands her of its Lord,

  And every Saint doth for this favor beg.”

  Only Compassion our part defendeth;

  And thus speaks God, who of my lady thinks:

  ”O my elect, now suffer ye in peace

  That, while it pleaseth me, your hope abide

  There, where is one who dreads the loss of her:

  And who shall say in hell to the foredoomed,

  ’I have beheld the hope of those in bliss.’”

  My lady is desired in highest heaven;

  Now will I of her virtue make you know.

  I say: Whoso would seem a gentle dame

  Should go with her; for when she goes her way

  Love casts a frost upon all caitiff hearts,

  So that their every thought doth freeze and perish.

  And who can bear to stay on her to look

  Will noble thing become, or else will die.

  And when one finds that he may worthy be

  To look on her, he doth his virtue prove;

  For that arrives to him which gives him health,

  And humbles him till he forgets all wrong.

  Yet hath God given her for greater grace,

  That who hath spoke with her cannot end ill.

  Love saith concerning her: “How can it be

  That mortal thing be thus adorned, and pure?”

  Then, gazing on her, to himself he swears

  That God in her a new thing means to make.

  Color of pearl so clothes her as doth best

  Become a lady, nowise in excess.

  Whate’er of good Nature can make she is,

  And by her pattern beauty tries itself.

  From out her eyes, howe’er she moveth them,

  Spirits inflamed of love go forth, which strike

  The eyes of him who then may look on them,

  And enter so that each doth find the heart.

  Love you behold depicted in her smile,

  Whereon no one can look with steadfast gaze.

  I know, Canzonè, thou wilt go to speak

  With many ladies, when I send thee forth.

  And now I bid thee, having bred thee up

  As young and simple daughter unto Love,

  That where thou comest thou shouldst praying say:

  ”Direct me on my way, for I am sent

  To her with praise of whom I am adorned.”

  And if thou wishest not to go in vain,

  Make thou no stay where villain folk may be;

  Endeavor, if thou mayst, to be acquaint

  Only with lady or with courteous man,

  Who thee shall guide along the quickest way.

  Thou wilt find Love in company with her;

  Commend me to him as behoveth thee.

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  Geoffrey Chaucer

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales. Lines 1–200

  Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1340–1400)

  WHAN that Aprille with his shoures soote

  The droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote,

  And bathed every veyne in swich licour,

  Of which vertu engendred is the f
lour;

  Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth 5

  Inspired hath in every holt and heeth

  The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne

  Hath in the Ram his halfe cours y-ronne,

  And smale fowles maken melodye,

  That slepen al the night with open ye, 10

  (So priketh hem nature in hir corages:

  Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,

  And palmers for to seken straunge strondes,

  To ferne halwes, couthe in sondry londes;

  And specially, from every shires ende 15

  Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,

  The holy blisful martir for to seke,

  That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seke.

  Bifel that, in that sesoun on a day,

  In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay 20

  Redy to wenden on my pilgrimage

  To Caunterbury with ful devout corage,

  At night was come in-to that hostelrye

  Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye,

  Of sondry folk, by aventure y-falle 25

  In felawshipe, and pilgrims were they alle,

  That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde;

  The chambres and the stables weren wyde,

  And wel we weren esed atte beste.

  And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste, 30

  So hadde I spoken with hem everichon,

  That I was of hir felawshipe anon,

  And made forward erly for to ryse,

  To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.

  But natheles, whyl I have tyme and space, 35

  Er that I ferther in this tale pace,

  Me thinketh it acordaunt to resoun,

  To telle yew al the condicioun

  Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,

  And whiche they weren, and of what degree; 40

  And eek in what array that they were inne:

  And at a knight than wol I first biginne.

  A KNIGHT ther was, and that a worthy man,

  That fro the tyme that he first bigan

  To ryden out, he loved chivalrye, 45

  Trouthe and honour, fredom and curteisye.

  Ful worthy was he in his lordes werre,

  And thereto hadde he riden (no man ferre )

  As wel in cristendom as hethenesse,

  And evere honoured for his worthinesse. 50

  At Alisaundre he was, whan it was wonne;

  Ful ofte tyme he hadde the bord bigonne

  Aboven alle naciouns in Pruce.

  In Lettow hadde he reysed and in Ruce,

  No cristen man so ofte of his degree. 55

  In Gernade at the sege eek hadde he be

  Of Algezir, and riden in Belmarye.

  At Lyeys was he, and at Satalye,

  Whan they were wonne; and in the Grete See

  At many a noble aryve hadde he be, 60

  At mortal batailles hadde he been fiftene,

  And foughten for our feith at Tramissene

  In listes thryes, and ay slayn his foo.

  This ilke worthy knight hadde been also

  Somtyme with the lord of Palatye, 65

  Ageyn another hethen in Turkye:

  And everemore he hadde a sovereyn prys.

  And though that he were worthy, he was wys,

  And of his port as meek as is a mayde.

  He nevere yet no vileinye ne sayde 70

  In al his lyf, un-to no maner wight.

  He was a verray parfit gentil knight.

  But for to tellen yow of his array,

  His hors were goode, but he was nat gay.

  Of fustian he wered a gipoun 75

  Al bismotered with his habergeoun.

  For he was late y-come from his viage,

  And wente for to doon his pilgrimage.

  With him ther was his sone, a yong SQUYER,

  A lovyer, and a lusty bacheler, 80

  With lokkes crulle, as they were leyd in presse.

  Of twenty yeer of age he was, I gesse.

  Of his stature he was of evene lengthe,

  And wonderly delivere, and greet of strengthe.

  And he hadde been somtyme in chivachye, 85

  In Flaundres, in Artoys, and Picardye,

  And born him wel, as of so litel space,

  In hope to stonden in his lady grace.

  Embrouded was he, as it were a mede

  Al ful of fresshe floures, whyte and rede. 90

  Singinge he was, or floytinge, al the day;

  He was as fresh as is the month of May.

  Short was his goune, with sleves longe and wyde.

  Wel coude he sitte on hors, and faire ryde.

  He coude songes make and wel endyte, 95

  Iuste and eek daunce, and wel purtreye and wryte.

  So hote he lovede, that by nightertale

  He sleep namore than doth a nightingale.

  Curteys he was, lowly, and servisable,

  And carf biforn his fader at the table. 100

  A YEMAN hadde he, and servaunts namo

  At that tyme, for him liste ryde so;

  And he was clad in cote and hood of grene;

  A sheef of pecok arwes brighte and kene

  Under his belt he bar ful thriftily, 105

  (Wel coude he dresse his takel yemanly:

  His arwes drouped noght with fetheres lowe),

  And in his hand he bar a mighty bowe.

  A not-heed hadde he, with a broun visage.

  Of wode-craft wel coude he al the usage. 110

  Upon his arm he bar a gay bracer,

  And by his syde a swerd and a bokeler,

  And on that other syde a gay daggere,

  Harneised wel, and sharp as point of spere;

  A Cristofre on his brest of silver shene 115

  An horn he bar, the bawdrik was of grene;

  A forster was he, soothly, as I gesse.

  Ther was also a Nonne, a PRIORESSE,

  That of hir smyling was ful simple and coy;

  Hir gretteste ooth was but by seynt Loy; 120

  And she was cleped madame Eglentyne.

  Ful wel she song the service divyne,

  Entuned in hir nose ful semely;

  And Frensh she spak ful faire and fetisly,

  After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe, 125

  For Frensh of Paris was to hir unknowe.

  At mete wel y-taught was she with-alle;

  She leet no morsel from hir lippes falle,

  Ne wette hir fingres in hir sauce depe.

  Wel coude she carie a morsel, and wel kepe, 130

  That no drope ne fille up-on hir brest.

  In curteisye was set ful moche hir lest.

  Hir over lippe wyped she so clene,

  That in hir coppe was no ferthing sene

  Of grece, whan she dronken hadde hir draughte. 135

  Ful semely after hir mete she raughte,

  And sikerly she was of greet disport,

  And ful plesaunt, and amiable of port,

  And peyned hir to countrefete chere

  Of court, and been estatlich of manere, 140

  And to ben holden digne of reverence.

  But, for to speken of hir conscience,

  She was so charitable and so pitous,

  She wolde wepe, if that she sawe a mous

  Caught in a trappe, if it were deed or bledde. 145

  Of smale houndes had she, that she fedde

  With rosted flesh, or milk and wastel breed.

  But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed,

  Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte:

  And al was conscience and tendre herte. 150

  Ful semely hir wimpel pinched was;

  Hir nose tretys; hir eyen greye as glas;

  Hir mouth ful smal, and ther-to softe and reed;

  But sikerly she hadde a fair forheed.

  It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe; 155

  For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.

  Ful
fetis was hir cloke, as I was war.

  Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar

  A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene;

  And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful shene, 160

  On which ther was first write a crowned A,

  And after, Amor vincit omnia.

  Another NONNE with hir hadde she,

  That was hir chapeleyne, and PREESTES thre.

  A MONK ther was, a fair for the maistrye, 165

  An out-rydere, that lovede venerye;

  A manly man, to been an abbot able.

  Ful many a deyntee hors hadde he in stable:

  And, whan he rood, men mighte his brydel here

  Ginglen in a whistling wynd as clere, 170

  And eek as loude as dooth the chapel-belle,

  Ther-as this lord was keper of the celle.

  The reule of seint Maure or of seint Beneit,

  By-cause that it was old and som-del streit,

  This ilke monk leet olde thinges pace, 175

  And held after the newe world the space.

  He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen,

  That seith, that hunters been nat holy men;

  Ne that a monk, whan he is cloisterlees

  Is likned til a fish that is waterlees; 180

  This is to seyn, a monk out of his cloistre.

  But thilke text held he nat worth an oistre.

  And I seyde his opinioun was good.

  What sholde he studie, and make him-selven wood,

  Upon a book in cloistre alwey to poure, 185

  Or swinken with his handes, and laboure,

  As Austin bit? How shal the world be served?

  Lat Austin have his swink to him reserved.

  Therfor he was a pricasour aright;

  Grehoundes he hadde, as swifte as fowel in flight; 190

  Of priking and of hunting for the hare

  Was al his lust, for no cost wolde he spare.

  I seigh his sleves purfiled at the hond

  With grys, and that the fyneste of a lond;

  And, for to festne his hood under his chin, 195

  He hadde of gold y-wroght a curious pin:

  A love-knot in the gretter ende ther was.

  His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas,

  And eek his face, as he hadde been anoint.

  He was a lord ful fat and in good point; 200

  List of Poems in Alphabetical Order

  List of Poets in Alphabetical Order

  The Prologue to the Canterbury Tales. Lines 801–858

  Geoffrey Chaucer (1340–1400)

  Whan that we come agayn fro Caunterbury.

  And for to make yow the more mery,