Classic Poem

The Reve was a slendre colerik man;
His berd was shave as ny as ever he can,
His heer was by his eres ful round y-shorn,
His top was dokked lyk a preest biforn;
Ful longe were his legges and ful leene,
Y-lyk a staf, ther was no calf y-seene.
Wel coude he kepe a gerner and a binne —
Ther was non auditour coude of him winne;
Wel wiste he by the droughte and by the rain
The yeeldinge of his seed and of his grain.
His lordes sheep, his neet, his dayerye,
His swin, his hors, his stor, and his pultrye
Was hoolly in this Reves governing;
And by his covenant yaf the rekening
Sin that his lord was twenty yeer of age.
There coude no man bringe him in arrerage.
Ther n'as baillif ne hierde nor other hine
That he ne knew his sleighte and his covine:
They were adrad of him as of the deeth!
His woning was ful faire upon an heeth;
With grene trees shadwed was his place.
He coude bettre than his lord purchase;
Ful riche he was astored prively:
His lord wel coude he plesen subtilly,
To yeve and lene him of his owene good
And have a thank and yet a cote and hood.
In youthe he hadde lerned a good mister:
He was a wel good wrighte, a carpenter.
This Reve sat upon a ful good stot
That was al pomely-grey and highte Scot.
A long surcote of pers upon he hade,
And by his side he bar a rusty blade.
Of Northfolk was this Reve of which I telle,
Biside a town men clepen Baldeswelle.
Tukked he was as is a frere aboute,
And evere he rode the hindreste of oure route.