Verse Satire in England Before the Renaissance

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Columbia University Press, 1908 - English poetry - 245 pages
 

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Page 98 - And after that than telle I forth my tales, — Bulles of popes and of cardinales, Of patriarkes and bishoppes I shewe; And in Latyn I speke a wordes fewe To saffron with my predicacioun, And for to stir?
Page 96 - Thanne wolde he speke, and crye as he were wood. And whan that he wel dronken hadde the wyn, Than wolde he speke no word but Latyn. A fewe termes hadde he, two or...
Page 95 - And everich hostiler and tappestere Bet than a lazar or a beggestere ; For un-to swich a worthy man as he Acorded nat, as by his facultee, To have with seke lazars aqueyntaunce. It is nat honest, it may nat avaunce For to delen with no swich poraille, But al with riche and sellers of vitaille.
Page 35 - Mihi est propositum in taberna mori ; Vinum sit appositum morientis ori : Ut dicant, cum venerint, angelorum chori, Deus sit propitius huic potatori.
Page 97 - And yet he was but esy of dispence; He kepte that he wan in pestilence. For gold in phisik is a cordial, Therefore he lovede gold in special.
Page 147 - Dare take nothynge on hande : Our barons be so bolde, Into a mouse hole they wolde . Rynne away and crepe ; Lyke a mayny of shepe, Dare nat loke out at dur For drede of the mastyue cur, For drede of the bochers dogge Wold wyrry them lyke an hogge.
Page 202 - Haifand joung infants, twa or thrie: And hes twa ky but ony ma, The Vickar most haif ane of thay: With the gray frugge that covers the bed, Howbeit the wyfe be purelie cled. And gif the wyfe die on the morne, Thocht all the bairns sould be forlorne, The vther kow he cleiks away With the pure cot of raploch gray.
Page 148 - How be it the primordyall Of his wretched originall, And his base progeny, And his gresy genealogy, He came of the sank royall, 490 That was cast out of a bochers stall.
Page 91 - ON KING RICHARD'S MINISTERS. (1399.) There is a busch that is forgrowe ; Crop hit welle, and hold hit lowe, Or elles hit wolle be wilde. The long grass that is so grene Hit most be mowe and raked clenc ; Forgrowen hit hath the fellde.

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