Selected quad for the lemma: book_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A18559
|
The lyf so short the craft so lo[n]ge to lerne; Parliament of fowls
|
Chaucer, Geoffrey, d. 1400.
|
1477
(1480)
|
STC 5091; ESTC S108760
|
15,825
|
50
|
The lyf so short the craft so lōge to lerne Thassaye so hard so sharp the conqueryng The dredeful ioye that alway flit so yerne Al this mene I by loue that my felyng Astoneth with his wonderful werkyng So sore ywis that whan I on hym thinke Note I wel whethir that I flete or synke For al be that I knowe not loue in dede Ne wote howe he quyteth folk their hyre Yet happeth me ful ofte in bookes rede Of his myraclys and his cruel yre There fynde I wel he wil be lord sire I dare not saye his strokis ben so sore But god saue suche a lord I can nomore Of vsage what for lust what for lore On bookes rede I ofte as I you tolde But wherfore I speke al this not yore Agon it happed me to beholde Vpon a book was writen with frēs olde And there vpon a certayn thing to lerne The long daye ful fast I redde yerne For out of olde feldes as men seith Cometh al this newe corn from yere to yere And out of old bookes in good feith Cometh al this newe science that men lere But now to purpose of this matere To rede forth I gan me so delite That al the day me thought it but a lyte This book the whiche I make of mencion̄ Entitled was right thus as I shal telle Tullius of the dreme of scipyon Chapitres seuen it had of heuen helle And erthe and sowles that therin dwelle Of the whiche as shortly as I can trete Of his sentence I wil you say the grete Fyrst tellith it whan scipion was comen In asfrike how he meteth macenys That hym for ioye In armes hath ynome Than telleth he her speche and al the blys That whas bitwen them til y e day gan mys And how his auncester affrican so dere Gan in his slepe that nyght to hym appere Than tellith it that from a sterry place How affrican hath hym cartage shewd And warned hym by fore al of his grace And said hym what man lered or lewd That loueth comyn prouffyt wel yt hewed He shold in to a blisful place wende Ther as ioye is with enten ony ende Than asked he yf folk that here ben dede Haue lyf and dwellyng in another place And affrican sayd ye with outen ony drede And hou our present worldis lyues space Nis but amaner deth what way we trace And rightful folk shal goo after they dye To heuene and shewde hym the galaxye Themie shewde he hym y e lityl erthe y e here is At the regarde of the heuens quantyte And after shewed he hym the nyne speris And after that the melodye herd he That cometh of thilke sperys thries thre That wellis of musyk ben and melodye In this world here cause of armonye Thenne said he hym syn the erthe was so lite And ful of torment and of hard grace That he ne shold hym in this world delite Thenne told he hym in certayn yeris space That eueri sterre shold come in to his place Ther it was first shuld be out of mynde That in this world is don of al mankynde Thenne praide hym scipion to tel hym all The way to come vnto that heuen blisse And he him said first knowe thi self mortal And loke ay bisyly that thou werk wisse To comyn prouffit thou shalt not mysse To comen swiftly in to that place dere That ful of Ioye is and of sowles clere But brekers of the lawe soth to sayne And lecherons folk after they ben dede Shal whirle aboute the world in payne Til many a world be passid out of drede And thenne forgyuen al their wickid dede Thenne shal they come to that blisful place To which to come god the sende his grace The day gan fayllen and the derk nyght That reueth bestes from her besynesse Birafte me my book for lak of light And to my bed I gan me for to dresse Fulfyld of thought and besy heuynes For bothe I had thing whiche that I nolde And eek I ne had the thing that I wolde But fynally my spirite at the laste For wery of my labour al the day Toke reste that made me to slepe faste And in my slepe I mette as I laye How affriaine right in the self araye That Scipion hym sawe byfore that tyde Was come and stode right by my bed side The wery hunter slepyng in his bedde To the wood agayn his mynde goth anone The Iuge dremeth hou his plees ben sped The carter dremeth hou his cartis gone The rich of gold y e knyht fight with his son The seke metith he drynketh of the tonne The louer metith he hath his lady wonne Can I not saye yf the cause were For I had red of affrycan biforn That made me to mete that he stode there But thus said he thou hast the so wel born In lokyng of myn old bookes to born Of the whiche macrobie roght not a lite That somdele of thy labour I wil the quyte Citherea thou blisful lady swete That with thy firebrōd dauntest whom y e lest And madest me this sweuen for to mete Be thou my help in this for thou maist best As wisly as I sawe the north north west Whan I began my sweuen for to wryte So gyue me myght to ryme it and endite This forsaid affrican me hente anone And forth with hym to a yate me brought Right of a parke walled with grete stone And on y e yate with lrēs large ywrought There were verses wreton as me thought On eyther half of ful grete difference Of whiche I shal you telle the playn sentēce Thurgh me men go in to that blisful place Of hertis hele and dedly wondes cure Thurgh me men gon vnto y e welle of grace There grene and lusty may shal euer endure This is the waye to alle good auenture Be glad thou redere and thy sorow of caste Alle open am I passe in and spede the faste Thurgh me men gon thēne spak y e other side Vnto mrotal strokes of the spere Of whiche disdaygn daunger is the gyde Ther neuer tree shal fruyt ne leuys bere This streme you ledeth to the sorouful were There as the fyssh in pryson is al drye The schewyng is only the remedye Thise versis of gold black ywreton were The whiche I gan a stounde to biholde For with that one encrecyd ay my fere And with that other began my herte to bolde That one me hete that other me colde None in wytte had I for errour for to chese To entre or fle or me to saue or lese For right as betwene adamantes two Of euen myght a pece of yron sette Ne hath no myght to meue to ne fro For what that one may hale that other lette So farid I that nyst whether me was bette To entre or leuen til affrican my gyde Me hente and shof in at the gates side And said it standes wreton in
none estate I haue none other eye But as for counceyl for to these a make Yf it were reson thenne wolde I Counceyl you the Xyal tercel take As said the tercelet ful skilfully As for the gentilest and most worthy Whom I haue wroght so wel to my plesanÌ„ce That to you ought haue ben a suffysaunce With dredeful voys y e formele her auswerd My right ful lady goddesse of nature Soth it is that I am vnder your yerd And muste be youris while my lif may dure And so muste be euerych ylk a ceature And therfore graunte me my first bone And myn entent I wil you saye right sone I graunt it you qd she right anone This formele egle spake in this degre Al myghty quene vnto this yere be done I aske respyte for to aduyse me And after that to haue my choyse fre This is al somÌ„e that I wil speke seye Ye gete no more al yf ye do me deye I wil not serue venus ne cupide Forsothe al 's yet by no maner of way Now fith it may non other wayes betide Quod nature here is nomore to saye Thenne will I that these fowles were away Eche with his make for taryeng lenger here And said hem thus as ye shal after dere To you speke I ye tersellis quod nature Bee ye of good herte and serue ye al thre Ayere is not so longe to endure And ylk of you peyne hym in his degre For to do wele for god wote quyt is she Fro you this yere what after so befalle This entermesse is dressid for you alle And whaÌ„ this werk al broght was to aneÌ„de To euery foule nature gaf his make By euen acorde and on their way they weÌ„de And lord the blisse and Ioye they make For eche of hem gan other in wynges take And with her neckis eche gan other winde ThaÌ„kyng alway the noble goddes of kinde But first were chosen fowles for to synÌ„ge As yere by yere was alway her vsance To synge a roundel at her departyng To do nature honour laude and plesance The note I trowe made was in france The wordes were suche as ye may here fynde The next vers as I now haue in mynde Que bien ayme tarde oublie And with y e shoutyng whan y e soug was do That fowles made at her flight away I woke and other bokes toke me to To rede vpon and yet I red alway I hope ywis to rede so somÌ„e day That I shal mete somÌ„e thinge for to fare The better and thus to rede I wil not spare Explicit the temple of bras Here next foloweth a tretyse whiche Iohn Gkogan Sente vnto the lordes and gentilmen of the kynges how 's exortyng them to lose no tyme in theyr yougthe but to vse vertues My noble sones and also my lordes deer I your fader called vnworthely Sende vnto you this lytyl tretyse here Wreton with my hand ful rudely And though it be that I not reuerently Have wreton to your estates I you praye Myn vnconnyng take it benygnly For goddes sake and herkne what I saye I complayne whan I remembre me The sodein age that is vpon me falle More I compleyne my myspent Iuuente Whiche is Impossible agayn for to calle But certaynly the most complaynt of alle Is to thenke that I haue ben so nyce That I ne wolde vertues to me calle In al my yougthe but vyces ay cheryâ—â— Of wylke I aske mercy of the lord That art almyghty god in mageste Be sechyng the to make so euen accorde Betwene the and my sowle that vanyte Worldly lust nor blynde prosperyte Haue no lordship of my flessh so freel The lord of vertue parfight vnyte Put fro me vices for my sowles heel And gyue me myht while I haue lyf space Me to conforme fully to thy plesaunce Shewe vpon me the habundanÌ„ce of thy grace In good werkis grante me perseueraunce Of al my yougthe forgete the ygnoranÌ„ce Geue me good will to serue the ay to queme Set al my lyf after thyn ordenanÌ„ce And able me to mercy or thou deme My lordes dere why I this ê¯pleynyng wryte To you whomÌ„ that I loue eutierly Is for to warne you as I can endyte That tyme lost in yougthe folily Greueth a wight bodely and gostly I mene hym that to vices list entende Wherfore I pray you lordes specially Your yougthe in vertue shape ye to dispende Thynke how betwene vertue and estate Ther is a blissid parfyght mariage Vertue is cause of pees vice of debate In maÌ„nes sowle for which with ful corage Cherisshe ye vertue the vices to outrage Dryue ye away late hem haue woÌ„nyng That your sowles lese not the heritage Whiche god hath gyuen to vertuê° lyuyng Take ye hede also how folk of poure degre Thurgh vertue haue ben set in grete honour And euer haue lyued in gret prosperite Thurgh cherisshyng of vertuous labour Thynke also how many agouernour Called to estate hath ben set ful lowe Thurgh misusyng of right and of errour Therfore I counceile vertu that ye knowe Thê° by your eldres ye may nothiÌ„g claime As my maister chawcer seith expresse But teÌ„peral thing y t may hurte mayme Thenne god is stock of vertuous noblesse And sythen he is lord of blessidnesse And made vs alle and for vs alle deyde Folowe ye hym in vertue with ful besynesse And of this thing herkne hou it is seyde The first stok fader of gentilnesse What man that claymeth gentil for to be Must folowe his trace and his wittes dresse Vertue to folowe and vices for to fle For vnto vertue longeth dignyte And not the reuerce saufly dar I deme Al were he mytor crowne or dyademe This first stok was ful of rightwisnes Trewe of his word sobre pyetous and free Clene of his goste and loued besynes Agayn vice of slouthe in honeste And but his eyer loue vertue as did he He is not gentil though he riche seme Al were he mytor crowne or diademe Vice may wel be to holde richesse But ther may no man almen may wel see Bequethe his eyer his vertuoê° noblesse That is appropred vnto no degre But to the first fader in mageste That makes hem eyres that can hem qneme Al were he crowne mytor or diademe Plante the rote of yougthe in suche awyse That in vertue your growyng be alway Loke ay godenes be in your excersyse That shal you myghty make at eche asay The frende for to withstoÌ„de and his affray Passe ye wisely this perilous pilgremage Thynke ye on this word wirke euery day That shal you gyue a parfyt flourid age Take ye also hede hou y e thise noble clerkis Wryten our bookes of grete sapience Sayng that feyth is dede with oute werkis So is estate withoute Intelligence Of vertue therfore with diligence Shape ye of vertue so to plante the rote That ye come by experyence To worship of lyf and sowlis bote Thynke also that lordship ne