Classic Poem

“B LISSFUL ” quoth I, “may this be true?”
Displeaseth not if I speak error.
Art thou the Queen of Heaven's blue
That all this world shall do honour?
We lieven' on Mary of whom Grace grew,
That bore a bairn of virgin flower;
The crown from her who might remew
But she her passed in some favour?
Now for singleness of her douceur
We call her Phoenix of Araby
That freless flew of her fasour
Like to the Queen of Courtesy.”

“Courteous Queen,” then said that gay,
Kneeling to ground, enfolden her face,
“Makeless Mother and merriest May,
Blessed beginner of every Grace!”
Then rose she up and did restay,
And spake toward me in that space:
“Sir, many here pourchaseth and fongeth prey,
But supplantereth none within this place.
That Empress all Heaven hath,
And Earth and Hell in her baily;
From heritage yet none will she chase
For she is Queen of Courtesy.

Of Courtesy, as saith Saint Paul,
All are we members of Jesu Christ;
As head and arm and leg and naul
Serve to his body full true and tryst,
Right so is every Christian soul
Belonging limb to the Master of might.
Then look, what hate or any gall
Is tached or tied thy limbs betwist?
Thy head hath neither greme nor grist
On arm or finger though thou bear ring.
So fare we all with love and list
To King and Queen by Courtesy.