Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/48

 GEOFFREY CHAUCER

Saugh I hir ones eek ful blisfully. And yonder ones to me gan she seye, "Now goode swcte, love me we], I preye." And yond so goodly gan she me biholde, That to the deeth myn herte is to hir holde.

And at that corner, in the yonder hous, Herde I myn alderlevcst lady dere So wommanly, with voys melodious, Singen so wel, so goodly, and so clere, That in my soule yet me thinketh I here The blisful soun; and, in that yonder place, My lady first me took un-to hir grace.'

With herte soor wel oughte I to bewayle, That ever derk in torment, night by night, Toward my deeth with wind in stcrc I sayle, For which the tenthe night if that I fayle The gydmg of thy bemes brighte an houre, My ship and me Caribdis wol devoure.'
 * O sterre, of which I lost have al the light,

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��75 The Love Unfeigned

YONGE frcsshe folkes, he or she, In which that love up groweth with your age, Repeyreth hoom from worldly vanitce, And of your herte up-casteth the visage To thilke god that after his image Yow made, and thinketh al nis but a fayrc This world, that passeth sone as floures fayre.

24 ones] once. alderlevest] deaiest of all.

/5 repeyreth] repair ye.

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