Classic Poem

ODE.

What I think iray den
The ode I want to start,
Castellan, to sing your glory
To make worthily
At the equal of my argument
The eternity of your memory.

I poinct ay, it seems, of need
I go very far you find
The ornaments of your louenges;
Because I voy quite near Avg
More reluyre treasures in thee,
That we can find the ones to strange lands.

The Muses, my sweetest soucy,
Honnorent you, and you also HONNORE
Apollo their brother like them;
Sisters You own property,
The brother, Castellan, you hold
Thousand everlasting wealth.

Mesme art to cure the ills
Aches and dolentz work
We suffer in a thousand diseases;
What I believe and that is better
All precious treasures
Hundred Arabies happy.

It is this divine art, which is not
Only duysant YCI low
A nostre debile Nature,
But who, exerceant in heaven
Is necessary to Mesmes Gods
So qu'ilz have any injuries.

This warrior, this horrible Mars
Felt well as between artz
Cettuy-cy exceeds the other,
While in battle Phrygian
Soustenant the party Trojan,
He was wounded by Diomede.

Venus still esprouva,
Too careful when she saved
The valiant filz her and Anchises;
And many another felt up there,
Sick or injured, that is
Medicine as exquisite.

How doncq 'prisay I your happiness,
Castellan, to bring honor
In this divine science
Of the more we can parfaitz veoir,
Or either size to wit,
Or either over safely experience.

Like a pearl of good water,
Enclosed in a ring,
Enrichist the estofe of feuvre,
So your under high premium,
Enclose in my escriptz,
Enrichist worms of my work.

There is no great torrent veoid
So soon between two current Montz
That short eloquence in your mouth
Distilling a talk softer
What is sugar, honey or brown,
What does mesnagere fly.

There are flower, tree, fruit ny
Of those produced by the earth,
Root juice ny, ny escorce,
Grass, drink, nor metal,
Liquor, nor stone, not animal,
Which you can not cognoisses force.

Your Bertrand also knoweth well
Who first kept you own,
Admiring Your holy doctrine;
Mesmes HENRY, our great Roy
Who deigns to serve thee,
With beautiful art of medicine.

Wherefore I want to good fortune
Thus sing your honor
And make your life immortal;
Seeing that you exempting Death,
You can make me just as much,
If I ay some great disease.

Rightly Homer sang,
Experienced one Myre
Worth a thousand other men in war
And that without him the most vaillantz
A Peyne can bataillans
Peace or victory acquerre.

Because if a leader by some misfortune
Sent soy in some pain
Him when he must take up arms,
Cetuy-cy alone can heal,
Disposed to making Ferir
More than ever grans alarms.

The husband of the Helaine Sceut,
By a stroke of trait that receut
During the long siege of Troy,
That he who first falsified
The oath sworn, threw him
Couvoitteux of too large prey.

For if any swallowtail soubdain
Had it not pulled this inhuman thing done,
It EUST little DAMAGE life
And obviate the need for hope
He had encor 'to get back
Its beautiful compaigne delighted.

Physicians are poinct Telz
Than other men mortelz;
And must by reason they are called
Demydieux because in a body
Ilz metent in peace discordz
That trouble the human health.

Apollo God Cynthien,
Invented first the average
Noz to cure ailments by breuvaige,
By unguent and section
And many another invention
Profitable common dommaige.

Aesculapius came after him,
And toy, Castellan, aujourdhuy
That as a new God I HONNORE,
Having this in mind Mesme toy
Asclepius had in soy,
If one has to believe in Pythagoras.

The Romans, plague afflicted,
In Lighten were once
By the physician Aesculapius;
And toy heal gold
A thousand François encor
Evils to which they escaped: Peyne.

I wot to have beene
Do aguiere in my LICT arreste
In a fever over safely inconstant;
Aussitost because I entendoy '
That you had just devers in me,
My access is alentoit dez time.

And I hope to gaze upon bientost
By the multitude of thy wit,
Healthy and rested our great Carle;
Carle, the prelate if learned man,
Deigns escouter so often
Worms that my Muse him speak.

The Romans, for better revere
Aesculapius among the Gods
Pitched a temple in an island,
That water Tybre still girt
In honor of this holy God if,
As his wit, their fust useful.

Where to go very soon I doy,
Suyvant Ambassador Roy
My AVANSON, dessouz his AELLE;
And there, on the most beautiful altar
I appendray this new anthem
Witnesse of thy eternal glory.