Classic Poem

Y shall gow telle, as Y have herd,
Of þe bysshope Seynt Roberd;
Hys toname ys ‘Grostest
Of Lynkolne’, so seyþ þe gest.
He loved moche to here þe harpe,
For mannys wytte hyt makyþ sharpe;
Next hys chaumbre, besyde hys stody.
Hys harpers chaumbre was fast þerby.
Many tymes, be nygtys and dayys,
He had solace of notes and layys.
One asked hym onys, resun why
He hadde delyte yn mynstralsy.
He answerede hym on þys manere,
Why he helde þe harpe so dere:
‘the vertu of þe harpe, þurgh skylle and rygt,
Wyl destroye þe fendes mygt;
And to þe croys by gode skylle
Ys þe harpe lykened weyle.
Anoþer poynt cumforteþ me,
thir God haþ sent untoa tre
So moche joye to here with erte,
Moche þan more joye ys þere
With God hymselfe, þere he wonys.
the harpe þeref me ofte mones
Of þe joye and of þe olþs
tharefor, gode men, ge shul lere,
Whan ge any glemen here;
To wurschep God at goure powere,
As Davyd seyþ yn þe sautere:
Yn harþe, yn thabour, and symphan gle,
Wurschepe God, yn troumpes, and sautre,
Yn cordys, yn organes, and bellys ryngyng,
Yn al þese, wurschepe ge hevene Kyng.
Gyf ge do þus, Y sey hardly,
Ge mow here goure mynstralsy.
Gyf bou lygge hong yn synne,
Certeynly, for every oure
thou shalt gelde acounte ful soure.
For every oure þat þou þeryn lay
Yn purgatorye þou gest þy pay.
Hyt ys sloghnes, and kalled “accyde”,
Fro Goddys servyse so long þe hyde.
And some, alle þe gere wyllyn abyde
Of shryfte tyl þe Lentyn tyde;
And nygh tyl Lentyn be al gone
Mede for fastyng gete þey none;
that ys, for sloghnes þey wyl nat ryse;
Lyggyng yn synne ys lore servyse.
And sum men, yn alle here lyve,
Clenly ne wyle þey hem shryve;
For þey synne alle yn hope of grace
At here endyng; wene þey have space.
than þenke þey to shryve hem clene:
To swyche men, God sheweþ hys tene.
Hyt ys seyd al day, for þys skyl:
“He þat wyl nat whan he may,
He shal nat, when he wyl, have pay.”
And þer byþ many one ful evyl to wynne
To any godenes fro vyle synne.
Evyl tokyn hyt ys of swyche a man;
God hym deme, for Y ne kan.
And þyr are ouþer þat mysdous,
As a best, for defaute þat goþ lous.
But whan men teche hem þe wey,
And þey wyl do as men hem sey,
A tokyn hyt ys, þey shul have grace
To come to God, and have space.
And he may hope of evyl endyng
that none may to Gode brynge.
A slogh messagere, hys wylland,
thar charged ys wyþ lordes erand,
Gyf he go nat as he ys sent,
He ys wurþy to be shent.
Man þat wel spedyþ hym yn dede,
And messager smart at nede,
they shul stonde byfore þe Kyng,
And have mede to here askyng.
A persone ys slogh yn holy cherche
that on hys shepe wyl nat werche
How þey shul hemself geme,
And God and holy cherche to queme
the hyghe Shepard shal hym blame
How he laceþ hem go to shame.
Gyf he se yn anyþyng
that þey have defaute of chastysyng;
But he teche hem and chastyse so
that þey forward better do,
For hem he shal, at þe assyse,
Be ponysshed before þe hygh Justyse.
Also behoveþ hym, for hem pray,
that God, of grace, wysse hem þe wey.
Gyf any of hem defaute has,
And he may helpe hem yn þat kas,
And wyl nat, for unkyndhede,
But late hem perysshe þer for nede,
Ful harde acounte shal he gelde
that he ne mygt helpe whan he welde.
Gyf he kyndly undyrstode,
Of hem he haþ al hys gode.
For God seyþ yn þe gospel þys,
Upbreydyng hem when þey do mys,
the mylke, þe wulle, þey wyl receyve;
And syþþen þe shepe þey wyle late weyve,
Holy wryte swyche men holdes
As wylde wulves brekyng foldes.
Swyche a persone vs ful slogh,
Be he hygh, or be he logh.
Man or womman þat haþ a chylde
that wyþ unþewys wexyþ wylde,
that wyl boþe myssey and do,
Chastysment behoveþ þarto;
But ge hem chastyse at goure mygt,
Ge falle, ellys, for hem yn plygt.
Better were þe chylde unbore
than fayle chastysyng, and syþþen lore.
thus seyth þe wys kyng Salamonn
To men and wymmen everychonn:
“Wyle ge þat goure chylder be aferd,
Geveþ hem þe smert ende of þe gerde;
And techeþ hem gode þewys echone,
Gyt dungow breke hem no bone.”