EARLY BRITISH POETS.

THE GOOD PARSON.

FROM THE CANTERBURY TALES.

A GOOD man there was of religion

That was a poore Parson of a town;
But rich he was of holy thought and work:
He was also a learned man—a clerk.
That Christe's gospel truely would preach;
His parishens devoutly would he teach.
Benign he was and wondrous diligent,
And in adversity full patient:

And such he was yproved oft sithes.
Full loth were he to cursen for his tythes;
But rather would he given out of doubt,
Unto his poor parishioners about,

Of his off'ring and eke of his substance:
He could in little thing have suffisance.
Wide was his parish-houses far asunder,

But he ne'er left nought for no rain nor thunder,

in sickness and in mischief to visite

The farthest in his parish much and lite,
Upon his feet, and in his hand a staff.

This noble ensample to his sheep he gave―
That first he wrought and afterward he taught;
Out of the gospel he the wordes caught,

And this figure he added yet thereto-
That if gold rusted, what should iron do?
For if a priest be foul on whom we trust,
No wonder is a lewed man to rust.

And shame it is, if that a priest take keep,
To see a smutted shepherd and clean sheep.
Well ought a priest ensample for to give
By his own cleanness, how his sheep should live.
He did not set his benefice to hire,
And let his sheep accumber in the mire,
And ran unto London unto St. Paul's
To seeken him a chanterie for souls,
Or with a brotherhood to be withold:
But dwelt at home and kepte well his fold,
So that the wolf he made it not miscarry :
He was a shepherd and no mercenary.
And, though he holy were and virtuous,
He was to sinful men not despitous;
Nor of his speeche dangerous nor digne,
But in his teaching discreet and benign.
To drawen folk to heaven with faireness,
By good ensample, was his business.
But, were it any person obstinate,
Whether he were of high or low estate,
Him would he snibben sharply for the nones:
A better priest I trow that no where none is.
He waited after no pomp nor reverence,
Nor maked him no spiced conscience,
But Christes love and his apostles twelve
He taught, but first he followed it himself.

CHAUCER,

GOOD COUNSEL.

FLY from the press, and dwell with soothfastness,
Suffice thee with thy good though it be small,
For hoard hath hate, and climbing lickleness,
Praise hath envy, and wail is blent o'er all;
Savour no more than thee behove it shall,
Rede well thyself that other folk can rede,
And truth thee shall deliver, have thou no dread.

Pain thee not each crooked to redress,
In trust of her that turneth as a ball;
Greatest standeth in little business;
Beware also to spurn against a nall,
Strive not as doth a crook against a wall;
Deem thy self as thou deemest others deed,
And truth thee shall deliver, have thou no dread

That thee is sent receive in buxomness;

The wrestling of this world demands a fall; Here is no home, here is but wilderness,

Forth pilgrim now, forth beast out of thy stall, Look up on high, and thank the God of all; Waive thou thy lusts, and let thy soul thee lead, And truth thee shall deliver, have thou no dread.

CHAUCER.

FREEDOM.

AH, Freedom is a noble thing!
Freedom makes men to have liking;