"Farewell, this world! I take my leve for evere" (published 1515)
Farewell, this world! I take my leve for evere;
I am arested to apere at Goddes face.
O myghtyfull God, thou knowest that I had levere
Than all this world to have oone houre space
To make asythe for all my grete trespace.
My hert, alas, is brokyne for that sorowe –
Som be this day that shall not be tomorow!
This lyfe, I see, is but a cheyré feyre;
All thyngis passene and so most I algate.
Today I sat full ryall in a cheyere,
Tyll sotell Deth knokyd at my gate,
And onavysed he seyd to me, ‘Chek-mate!’
Lo, how sotell he maketh a devors!
And, wormys to fede, he hath here leyd my cors.
Speke softe, ye folk, for I am leyd aslepe!
I have my dreme – in trust is moche treson.
Fram dethes hold feyne wold I make a lepe,
But my wysdom is turnyd into feble resoun:
I see this worldis joye lastith but a season –
Wold to God I had remembyrd me beforne!
I sey no more, but be ware of ane horne!
This febyll world, so fals and so unstable,
Promoteth his lovers for a lytell while,
But at the last he yeveth hem a bable
When his peynted trowth is torned into gile.
Experyence cawsith me the trowth to compile,
Thynkyng this, to late, alas, that I began,
For foly and hope disseyveth many a man.
Farewell, my frendis! the tide abidith no man:
I moste departe hens, and so shall ye.
But in this passage, the beste song that I can
Is Requiem eternam – I pray God grant it me!
Whan I have endid all myn adversité,
Graunte me in Paradise to have a mancyon,
That shede his blode for my redempcion.
2 at - before;
3 levere - rather;
5 asythe - amends;
7 ‘some are here today that shall not be here tomorrow’;
“Bitwenë March and Avëril” (published c. 1450)
The merthe of alle this londe
Maketh the gode husbonde
With erynge of his plowe;
Iblessyd be Cristes sonde
That hath us sent in honde
Merthe and joye ynowe.
The plowe goth mony a gate
Both erly and eke late
In wynter in the clay
Aboute barly and whete,
That maketh men to swete,
God spede the plowe al day!
Browne, Morel and Gore
Drawen the plowe ful sore
Al in the morwenynge;
Rewarde hem therfore
With a shefe or more
Al in the evenynge.
Whan men bygynne to sowe
Ful wel here corne they knowe
In the monnthe of May.
Howe ever Janyver blowe,
Whether hye or lowe,
God spede the plowe allway!
Whan men bygynneth to wede
The thystle fro the sede,
In somer whan they may,
God lete hem wel to spede;
And longe gode lyfe to lede
All that for plowemen pray.
1 Averil - April;
2 spray - twig; springe sprout;
3 foul - bird; hirë wil her desire;
4 on hyrë lede - in her language;
6 semeliest fairest; thynge things, creatures;
8 baundoun - power;
9 ‘a fair good fortune I have received’;
10 Ichot - I know;
11 lent - gone;
12 light - alighted;
13 on hew - in hue, colour; her hair;
15 lufsom chere - lovely expression; logh smiled;
16 middel smal - slender waist; wel y-make well made;
17 but she - unless she;
18 to ben - to be; make companion;
19 Ichulle - forsake I will refuse;
20 feyë - doomed, dead;
Both poems from Penguin Book of English Verse
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