Classic Poem

I hold him wise and wel y-taught
Can bere an horn and blow it naught.

Blowing was made for grete game;
Of this blowing cometh mikel grame;
Therefor I hold it for no shame
To bere a horn and blow it naught.

Hornes are made both loud and shill;
When time is, blow thou thy fill,
And when need is, hold thee still
And bere a horn and blow it naught.

What-so-ever be in thy thought,
Heer and see and say right naught;
Then shall men say thou art well taught
To bere a horn and blow it naught.

Of al the riches under the sun,
Then was there never beter wun
Than is a taught man for to cun
To bere a horn and blow it naught.

What-so-ever be in thy brest,
Stop thy mouth with thy fist,
And look thou think well of " Had I wist",
And bere a horn and blow it naught.

And when thou sittest at the ale
And criest like a nightingale,
Beware to whom thou tellest thy tale,
But bere a horn and blow it naught.