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Abraham anon bope Chaucer chyld clene Coll Crist Dame dede dere doun drede erpe erthe fabliau fader fayre Ffor Goddes gode grene gret grete hast hath herd herte hevene hire holy honde hous iwys J>an J>at J>er J>ou jowr kepe king knight knijt kyng lady leve levedi Litull loke lond Lord lufe maner Mede mete Middle English mordre myght myjt Nennius never noght nojt noujt pere poem quen quod rede rijt sayd schal sche seide seyde shal sholde shulde Sirith sone song sonne sory speke swete swich synne thai Thenne ther thoght thou thow toke trewe tyme unto watz wele wende weren whan whilk wolde wyfe wyll wyth Ysaac
Page 377 - 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 201 - Ne him that is agast of every tool, Ne noon avauntour, by that god above! How dorste ye seyn for shame unto your love, That any thing mighte make yow aferd?
Page 202 - I telle also, That werken many a man in sleep ful wo; But I wol passe as lightly as I can. Lo Catoun, which that was so wys a man, Seyde he nat thus, ne do no fors of dremes? Now, sire,' quod she, 'whan we flee fro the bemes.
Page 210 - And with that word he fley doun fro the beem, For it was day, and eek his hennes alle; And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, For he had founde a corn, lay in the yerd.
Page 216 - and after him they ran, And eek with staves many another man ; Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot, and Gerland, And Malkin, with a distaf in hir hand ; Ran cow and calf, and eek the verray hogges So were they fered for berking of the dogges And shouting of the men and wimmen eke, They ronne so, hem thoughte hir herte breke.
Page 402 - MISERERE mei Deus : secundum magnam misericordiam tuam. Et secundum multitudinem miserationum tuarum : dele iniquitatem meam. Amplius lava me ab iniquitate mea : et a peccato meo munda me.
Page 209 - But he was slayn anoon of Achilles. But thilke tale is al to long to telle; And eek it is ny day, I may nat dwelle.
Page 218 - y-doon trespas, In-as-muche as I maked yow aferd, Whan I yow hente, and broghte out of the yerd ; But, sire, I dide it in no wikke entente ; Com doun, and I shal telle yow what I mente. I shal seye sooth to yow, god help me so.