The Complete Works of Geoffrey Chaucer

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Clarendon Press, 1915 - Middle Ages - 881 pages
 

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Page 420 - But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre...
Page 426 - Or feyne thing, or finde wordes newe. He may nat spare, althogh he were his brother; He moot as wel seye o word as another. Crist spak himself ful brode in holy writ, And wel ye woot no vileinye is it. 740 Eek Plato se'ith, whoso can him rede, The wordes mote be cosyn to the dede.
Page 419 - 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.
Page 417 - Wei nyne and twenty in a companye, Of sondry folk, by aventure y-falle 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.
Page 418 - After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe, 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.
Page 417 - And bathed every veyne in swich licour. Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth The tendre croppes...
Page 348 - That of alle the floures in the mede, Than love I most thise floures white and rede, Suche as men callen daysyes in her toun. To hem have I so gret affeccioun, As I seyde erst, whan comen is the May, That, in my bed ther daweth '
Page 424 - Now is nat that of God a ful fair grace, That swich a lewed mannes wit shal pace The wisdom of an heep of lerned men?
Page 348 - And to hem yive I feyth and ful credence, And in myn herte have hem in reverence So hertely, that ther is game noon That fro my bokes maketh me to goon...
Page 418 - Somtyme with the lord of Palatye, Ageyn another hethen in Turkye : And evermore he hadde a sovereyn prys. And though that he were worthy, he was wys, And of his port as meke as is a mayde. He never yet no vileinye ne sayde 70 In al his lyf, un-to no maner wight. He was a verray parfit gentil knight.

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