Classic Poem

More þen me lyste my drede aros;
I stod ful stylle & dorste not calle;
Wyth ygen open & mouth ful clos,
I stod as hende as hawk i n halle.
I hope[d] þ a t gostly watg þ a t porpose;
I dred on-ende quat schulde byfalle,
Lest ho me eschaped þat I þ er chos,
Er I at steuen hir mogt stalle.
þat gracios gay w it h -outen galle,
So smoþe, so smal, so seme slygt,
Ryseg vp i n hir araye ryalle,
A p re c[ i ]os pyece i n perleg pygt.

Perleg pygte of ryal prys
þere mogt mon by grace haf sene,
Quen þat frech as flor-de-lys
Dou n þe bonke con boge by-dene
Al blysnande whyt watg hir beau mys,
Vpon at sydeg, & bou n den bene
Wyth þe myryeste margarys, at my deuyse,
þat eu er I seg get with myn [ene];
Wyth lappeg large, I wot & I wene,
Dubbed with double perle & dygte;
Her cortel of self sute schene,
W it h p re cios perleg al vmbe-pygte.

A pygt coroune get wer þat gyrle,
Of mariorys & non oþ er ston,
Hige pynakled of cler quyt perle,
Wyth flurted flowreg perfet vpon.
To hed hade ho non oþ er werle;
Her [h]ere [h]eke al hyr vmbe-gon;
Her semblau n t sade, for doc oþ er erle;
Her ble more blagt þen whalleg bon
As schorne golde schyr her fax þe n ne schon,
On schyldereg þat legh e vnlapped lygte;
Her depe colo ur get wonted non
Of p re cios perle i n porfyl pygte.

Pygt watg poyned & vche a he m me,
At honde, at sydeg, at ouerture,
Wyth whyte perle & non oþ er ge m me,
& bornyste quyte watg hyr uesture;
Bot a wonder perle, w it h -outen we m me,
In myddeg hyr breste watg sette so sure;
A ma n neg dom mogt drygly de m me,
Er mynde mogt malte i n hit mesure.
I hope no tong[e] mogt endure
No sau er ly saghe say of þ a t sygt,
So watg hit clene & cler & pure,
þat p re cios perle þ er hit watg pygt.

Pygt in perle, þat p re cios py[ec]e
On wyþ er -half wat er com dou n þe schore;
No gladder gome heþen i n -to Grece,
þe n I, quen ho on bry m me wore;
Ho watg me nerre þen au n te or nece;
My joy for-þy watg much þe more.
Ho p[ ro ]fered me speche, þ a t special sp[e]ce,
Enclynande lowe i n wo m mon lore;
Cagte of her corou n of grete tresore,
& haylsed me wyth a lote lygte.
Wel watg me þ a t eu er I watg bore,
To sware þat swete i n perleg pygte.

" O PERLE , " q uo þ I, " in perleg pygt,
Art þ ou my perle þat I haf playned,
Regretted by my n one, on nygte?
Much longey n g haf I for þe layned,
Syþen into gresse þ o u me aglygte;
Pensyf, payred, I am for-payned,
& þ o u i n a lyf of lyky n g lygte
In Paradys erde, of stryf vnstrayned
What wyrde hatg hyder my iuel vayned,
& don me in þys del & gret dau n ger?
Fro we i n twy n ne wern towen & twayned,
I haf ben a joyleg juelere. "

That juel þe n ne, in ge m meg gente,
Vered vp her vyse w it h ygen graye,
Set on hyr corou n of perle orie n t,
& soberly after þe n ne con ho say: —
" S ir , ge haf yo ur tale myse tente,
To say yo ur perle is al awaye,
þat is i n cofer so comly clente,
As i n þis gardyn gracios gaye,
Here-i n ne to lenge for eu er & play,
þer mys ne morny n g com neu er [n]ere;
Her were a forser for þe i n faye,
If þ o u were a gentyl jueler.

" Bot, jueler gente, if þ o u schal lose
þy ioy for a ge m me þat þe watg lef,
Me þynk þe put i n a mad porpose,
& busyeg þe aboute a raysou n bref;
For þat þ o u lesteg watg bot a rose,
þat flowred & fayled as kynde hyt gef;
Now þurg kynde of þe kyste þ a t hyt con close
To a perle of prys hit is put i n pref.
& þ o u hatg called þy wyrde a þef,
þat ogt of nogt hatg mad þe cler;
þ o u blameg þe bote of þy meschef,
þ o u art no kynde jueler. "

A juel to me þen watg þys geste,
& iueleg wern hyr ge n tyl saweg
" I-wyse, " q uo þ I, " my blysfol beste,
My grete dystresse þ o u al to-draweg
To be excused I make requeste;
I trawed my perle don out of daweg;
Now haf I fonde hyt, I schal ma feste,
& wony w it h hyt i n schyr wod-schaweg,
& loue my Lorde & al his laweg,
þat hatg me brog[t] þys blys[se] net.
Now were I at yow by-gonde þise waweg,
I were a ioyfol jueler! "
" Jueler, " sayde þat ge m me clene,
" Wy borde ge men? So madde ge be!

þre wordeg hatg þ o u spoken at ene;
Vn-a-vysed, for-soþe, wern alle þre;
þ o u ne woste in worlde quat on dotg mene,
þy worde by-fore þy wytte con fle
þ o u says þ o u traweg me i n þis dene,
By-cawse þ o u may w it h ygen me se;
Anoþ er þ o u says, i n þys cou n tre
þy self schal won w it h me rygt here;
þe þrydde, to passe þys wat er fre, —
þat may no ioyfol jueler.

" I HALDE þat iueler lyttel to prayse,
þat l[e]ueg wel þ a t he seg wyth yge,
& much to blame & vn-cort[a]yse,
þat l[e]ueg oure Lorde wolde make a lyge,
þat lelly hygte yo ur lyf to rayse,
þag fortune dyd yo ur flesch to dyge.
Ge setten hys wordeg ful westernays,
þat l[e]ueg no þy n k bot ge hit syge;
& þat is a poy n t o sorquydryge,
þat vche god mon may euel byseme,
To leue no tale be t r ue to tryge,
Bot þat hys one skyl may dem[e].

" Deme now þy self, if þ o u con dayly
As man to God wordeg schulde heue;
þ o u saytg þ o u schal won i n þis bayly;
Me þynk þe burde fyrst aske leue;
& get of grau n t þ o u mygteg fayle.
þ o u wylneg ou er þys water to weue;
Er moste þ o u ceuer to oþ er cou n sayl[e];
þy corse i n clot mot calder keue;
For hit watg for-garte at Paradys greue;
Oure gore-fader hit con myssegeme;
þurg drwry deth bog vch ma dreue,
Er ou er þys dam hy m Drygty n deme "
" Demeg þ o u me, " q uo þ I, " my swete,
To dol agayn, þe n ne I dowyne.

Now haf I fonte þat I for-lete,
Schal I efte for-go hit, er eu er I fyne?
Why schal I hit boþe mysse & mete?
My p re cios perle dotg me gret pyne!
What serueg tresor bot gare men grete,
When he hit schal efte w it h teneg tyne?
Now rech I neu er for to declyne,
Ne how fer of folde þat man me fleme
When I am partleg of perle myne,
Bot durande doel what may men deme? "
" Thow demeg nogt bot doel dystresse, "

þe n ne sayde þat wygt; " why dotg þ o u so?
For dyne of doel of lureg lesse
Ofte mony mon for-gos þe mo;
þe ogte better þy seluen blesse,
& loue ay God, [in] wele & wo,
For anger gayneg þe not a cresse;
Who nedeg schal þole, be not so þro.
For þog þ o u dau n ce as any do,
Brau n dysch & bray þy braþeg breme,
When þ o u no fyrre may, to ne fro,
þ o u moste abyde þat he schal deme.

" Deme Drygtyn, euer hy m adyte
Of þe way a fote ne wyl he wryþe;
þy mendeg mou n teg not a myte,
þag þ o u for sorge be neu er blyþe
Sty n t of þy strot & fyne to flyte,
& sech hys blyþe ful swefte & swyþe;
þy prayer may hys pyte byte,
þat Mercy schal hyr crafteg kyþe,
Hys comforte may þy lango ur lyþe,
[þ a t alle] þy lureg of lygtly leme;
For, marre[d] oþ er madde, morne & myþe,
Al lys i n hym to dygt & deme. "