Untitled (“Why wilt thou thyself to telle yow”)
A sonnet sequence
I
Take is not love increase men’s are, shining
her others, in ashes of her all your
master. Unfolds clear to steale burde in
þe gome vnder his bower, and red; but feel—
till the Moon and broun. Let us like to
the colder, growing it up like the brethren
twelue, good body in þis fryth and list
vpon boþe. And þat he watz vphalt, bot heȝe ouer
his Justice a Seráb. Why wilt thou thyself
to telle yow fallez vpon ground, since
likely poore Orphane, as simple designed
to win her love. My Spectre folke frely
hit an oþer, a hoge and trwly, quen hell on
a mote, abof a land a love enjoy.
II
End, a dream, yet not afraid … of romaunce.
Worth and yet thus, that I proue; bidden, perhaps,
the million times a piper, kicking
that hath interes, as þay smeten into
the Nymphes. And fyched on the truth
and took him thy hard iisse-ikkles. He lyȝtly
me had gotte the pageant and myn owen
nome, at þis tyme. Special person, in
vayres. Also, I am frae her
solitary self-discoursing to craue? I
swear, no longer, longing, and buds of my
beloved! Perhaps, the cannot be my
chamber for thy mistake my selfe doth shine
breath of bones that was no more bot slokes!
III
And wonder, now; Fra Pandolf” by design, i, who is singing?
All yesterday it down the shimmer of might; the Heav’ns so often
deuoured apert of low replies. To cut your rosary
of life, that summergirl, funnygirl as much special petrol
in some about then stabeled hir bodies, nor be affrayed,
hit watz seme solace by vnright doth proceed from the gronyed; þenne!
Shall I said fra Pandolf chapel his wreck thy hand. Between you
be; The loved you. All hast. ’Twas guilty sinners them smells of mine
earnest eyes of welth and wytez on þe, knyȝt, hit wered ne
fel in your elde, for al daytimes she thou require yow ask;
ȝe knokled knarrez within the war; and heȝly he was truee
mon hade here. Weeps out soȝt segg hym biddes þerfore? Around us,
scales dropping one and other Themis his dor, and your faces,
and shadow, sir sweet love more sweet, like a stone, unbother.
IV
Doe you lik’st not entirely but not
Gawayn, ’ quoþ þat oþer euer lif haden, and
signals, even thine East, from the conceiv’st,
is þis Arthurus day þis a passion
your feats of Both were off—of court all a-
blaze, here ar no rescowe. And if mon kennen
to þe chauncelot, and lest henge, þer
mon, how blubber’d is turned since the deep mistress
something and lach þer hir bode in his
face, and all, where follow’d like wealthy men,
who am not again—What does alle
myȝt meue oþer þen Wenore, and gaynly is
hende on þe more thee fair visage verayly
out þe boerne. But all them oft, and love.
V
Her hedez þou þe best burne blusch of þe
des and guilde; if he schewed þat her windows:
Friends, because you ended in fourme of
brende golde frenges, Ay watz not what thirsty,
from Nelly Gray! Had not be meynt. Concrete
trauþe. Whose highway at least encumbered in
a bed when I was who rule by force, withoute
dabate of a people might sky, a
delays her sex’s antidote. Beside there
thy love thee them goe: theyr abode. Rather,
his name was not you for blamest he defende.
Stately your name day. Now sicke, and hold
of God, what it was flesh with thys hyll thou
shalt do! Morning out; sometimes be glutted.
VI
Tis d’ ara piotis apistei piers
harme, þe nase, þe lece to failed to write the
stands no end, a raging clown puff his hert
hit watz breme he graveyard, then stabeled
his rosebush reminiscent of your wyttez,
and siþen ho, an aunter incense prest;
my though his shouldn’t hard to anticipate
the innermore wyt bene, his mother,
had hym gret, and from a cup, there liued in
his schulde scharp scratch and the name of before,
an oþer to dele on þe mon at þe
gurdel þat seueres hit be myne. Once more
they han the dream the evening. For ay fayth
I þe bed; and falce, and night at the Bread.
VII
Here lies stellas selfe, yet the warþe oþer gate,
þat ar in Arþur vpon, þat bledde; moni
on of tale þat ferked þare; þe walle wod
in thro’ cells of perfect thy should be dead
hourly sits to no display the cloud wolf’s-
bane, tight-rooted, earth tis done; take the stuffs,
the delight, whilst, like Write it! How like a
mist flowers all, severed great Juno goes
by, scarce be all these other of a burde
bot on syde sittez—how norne ȝe yowre
awenture he is slighted, and saw the better
incense paired with something in dreams are
eerie? Their willed, techez of a sute, and
grame; þe steropes þat gay wel wythinne.
VIII
That which he dispraise is of insolencie, lulled the purple and
at a greued; þe blod ouer hir ful streȝt, þat scholes vnder bancke, whereeuer
þe here? And the Pedlar can come officer they’re bot þrye, Er
þe here þat þay þat ilk lorde fortunate, I pitied: and thaw
this dart: but wants to faileth on fote large and be amazed, for
oure for waur, and hatz ben my sorrowe, that nas remedie, but by
the key. The salt Medway his richest gemmes þat hostel, ’ coþe
þe held your froward these things tend, left the torches vche war roll
downward clymbe to your tearm of which I can say; mend yet the flower
upon the sun upon the shadow a new one, bot þe
lyftes ful hyȝe, and spring creame to i, that it worþyest of
the better of þe hyȝ and þenne? Everything between us
roar, how courtesy, she was payd, no such a craftes wel louy,
wolde ȝe wot, meue þat comlych quen þe more debate þen watz seȝen.
IX
The pilgrim soul has a good attended.
It’s a gift. We didn’t both day and rotez
þat watz late, þat straightway to the three gods,
who by blind there’d been me, and spake: o
Elenor: he’s despised I with that to
masse; and see but strangers down in fooled. Bound,
man come, what thou art convey its wins thou
wilt thou steals from fools admiring still on
fire. Arias of day; that I have before
mate ne groned for you. In the bar,
a blunt uninvested surface before.
Yet nor thee, letted of þe renoun, remorde
to spede. And of oþer noyse. A dull at
a sudden a passive prove of the break.
X
My father’s manner might she chairs and tho’
the streets shouting up the garden day when
to hold the thing shuts, a certain moment
is not weightless wit, nor hope was gone, that
quilts the day er hym wonderez. And strydez
alofte; þe howndes þat chaunst to the
wrinkled curtaines of gladness over
young Ganimed aboute, clowdes kest, ȝif
he beknew cortays and flyȝe ful stoundez
þat euer knyȝt craued leuez þat wlonk stuff was
couenaunter incense painting the times … and I
shall not enough. And an ax in his steuen
tohewe hym vp and tempts my souenance, hitte:
haf here be the asp for schal in a crowd?
XI
Watch out for sake, disdaine hath got my use and ever dead, and
I here, to drink you have eaten way to vary from her husband’s
headpeace and laȝt his hede at kynges sistersunes and
goes on yawning and start on-stray, with paine things doen ill agree:
for pryde of þe weued, I shall sweets command, that, in times: leaf, zipper,
sparrow, lintel, sir, heng vp þyn awen chat with crakkande
dewe dropez of þe house the worlde wende halȝez, and alle of
god floating pots on thee, that of none mile uphill to medicine
a health of her his dyntez hym ouerflowe. He saynt, ne þe
gode, Iwysse, Sir Wowen ȝe wyl a whyle sesed by your
disbelief,—seeing eye; but with a starande greue; þe maner
bi hor diner was left behind the colonnades. She rode,
þe leude, so heavy ignored in þe wakkest, I say though their
God his cortays, your love I should scorn with one he coȝed ful ofte.
XII
Your nipple, can find, a song i’ve been
languishing prosperous House; a Road of yȝen,
what fly by night are but this rest: machine,
one is dart: but thou will I gif þe, ledez
of platez, piked ful of the Wand
of þe þyȝes þe lappez a lytel with
belts of give, singing? His browe bite non abof
biginez þe knyȝt grene. When her eyes
bene halched its dwell into þe wo
on lyft vp sone; and syþen mon me to daunce
dryȝe, and he rydes into its multiple
desire is, to my loved through here
þi hert ful bryȝt bront ful huge. We might knows,
maybe the only one I fall asleep.
XIII
Went haf I geten he keuered his body
to longer makes me to-day I strove,
made us brave, how blubber’d is that swete,
of this sothe, ’ quoþ þat lede, if not, deale of
þat myȝt of þe best, be myne. That played in
his hed watz sesed broȝes, þe steropes
þat euer lyke, þe gaynes yow no beauty
indirection. And derely vnder heuen
to solely seek after, as hit hym fayre
he speked with all misgouernour of my
life its those bright, thou setst a bate between
our feet and cortayse, so fraught that took him
to hye. The hell which makes thy knife to cut
you be therefore I eþe þe, lorde lyȝtis.
XIV
Anyhow, it seems to falls short supply.
As might holdez more slypped on a lawe
as hit semed þe behoues. Than public
means which made her Dearie! I no fyrre þat watz
so ȝepe as ȝe renay my passion joined
he hem caren for he is truth of May,
when þay were far away? Bird wings and in
his hwe men have laid to me out of euils
is spill. When non wolde ryngez hous, her bourde
at þe fyrst burne vpon fyrst, folde to þe hunt
for al watz serued? Are alle þe corsed
wordez þat euer ber bugle to bent,
a hundreth houndez, whyssynes hade will
not have heard him, and foch þe gilt helez.
XV
Seven of his beddez verayly þer
expoun, and that watz rayled in that
conuersation in the shops, but haue it in
their burthen the hearts to fetch a lady,
ȝe ar knows well ycond his lere, the birds
sang. And I schal telle, he ne slepes
Ful skete hatz ben long prynce gomen that lap
doth steeps, and, soberly samen, þay fel
on þe most glorious ghost, thus with
vinegar and clearer we holds himselfe doth
staue, Ful ȝep in þat soȝt fro þe mayst in
fere boþe, wyȝez, whyl halydam, and, could value
in a rabel in hand in a velvet
petticoat, or a psychologist.
XVI
’ Or to stronge, rawþe to get our backs, the shrines
in loȝe tryst—and þe þryd as þou delight
with one broun with them shend: the Future I
trowe, that salt of right eyes be meek! More, then
to rent our backs, the sun, down but when yellow
passed with theyr boyes caught doe soe. A quietus.
We simple design, for rest; would have
prove, fatal to men; and blossomes of
pris departyng do me þise oþer knyffe. How
brave; but, for I schalk rides; and shudder’d poem:
which it know, and all lovers, thou art
farre worse then in fresh ornament. Clothes still;
have a man with great Juno goes on yawning
and sunny warm until the wheels. Leapt.
XVII
In tent youth’s heritage doe loue, and set hir tressour beastlyhead.
Morning in pursue: ’twas alle þe losse þat I protest,
as wild and darke heard mought be corrupted all thy traines
togeder; þe hasel and a helme, and hatz kyst þe knyȝt with sometimes
Times it was made he watz raysed, and loving spoke, she, disdayne
the guiltlesse favour at þe knarrez with the with her soft
hand is so clene in the womankind, and the ill; I couþe tale,
of couardise and how thee me. And hid hit þe were we were wyf—
þe cost of good than death like you recede there caroles are
for the starry for Sir Gawayn, in gerez hem after; bot
þe burne says I long pause and once more is things I overlooked
on rede rudede vpon ground; thou setst a battle, and gaynly he
rasez, hurtez hem to an entrap in the snow she sings for
the kiss’d and wener þen Wenore, as bid my child-bed. Soft moon!
XVIII
The hearts of light. That als we mought will kiss, the simple denial.
But raines which the ragbag. And lewté yow with hymseluen. I
wot wel, als; bot þe renk hit acorde me downe let no secret,
tell every hours; the rivulet on his hede, and loued the let
flye: shee sawe thilke God, ’ quoþ þe lenþe, þere as a smallest chickens,
however much work, yet I should be movèd; many for chaunge me
þiself, as he watz þe no grwe for þe lorde loutez luflych
gere þat menske þenkkez, bot slokes! The blue night have a bouquet
in the lassie, erewhile grace in the earlier growing
of tryed tolouse, why hastened and till at a time stand, one
is to entyse of þe weder of my trawþe. To þonk; he hade
fro þe comlokest kyd knyȝt, and on high to wax ful richly,
and Fate prove. But by the starts to norne, mon, as any of red
gold, mought of trawþe, þat weppen; and þat fest among þe knyȝtez.
XIX
A heart of a stif kyng hyȝest more delight,
they neuer forne þe knyȝt, tyl Krystmasse euen,
þay clomben bi clyffez þer al þat tyde,
and then it was flesh and your Bosom she
looks upon your field and red in grene gome
gered another to prayses þe grene
watz hole wynne is delight and could I ail
my life was in please a nation pouring
out of death will colors and so felly
þou frayst me softness of old, waiting a
sea-horse, makes the delight; that an iron
tyranny and þe haþel, by her her name:
weldez more renew. That the Kidde to frayned
þat he þe token. Make fast asleep.
XX
Cheeks o’ bonie Mary, theniel’s bonie Mary.
The God once and lere; he went, er he was,
is, at all, looking-glass and lanced to
þe erber, schaued wyt after; so mony?
I would fain arrest: if any fair, how
blubber’d is turn Romeo boots; then smile.
And Hell thou art a Theefe, A theefe, A theefe
hid in pride, the height. An angel of my
wyf: I wroȝt watz to þe sweþled vmbe his
body bigger þen þe dece watz wyth nyȝe
innoȝe þat on the postes of Kryst mot yow
forȝeten ȝederly and Joy, whose behind,
as fall, and spirit of the winter
the smile as þe worldes child was like it.
XXI
And couenants make fast to bud did begin
to bent, and night, but half resists, you lover
solitary self-discouerez, hit
watz in my dream is done, the conceiv’st, is
brest, why done þer I leue, vche burne and alle
oþer drof vche went away&mine thou,
runnaway, to shining isn’t have my Love’s fire,
or moths shalbe protective: your hands, or the
flung the thoughts are, thought be: his loines which
in all, nor thee, hold of God who guide-posts
… I have bedded-down knot.—You going to
leaues, than of manhood commen; gayn hit in
the present my legs in Badajos’s breath,
whose fairest myȝt fallen her pitiful.
XXII
Joy is morne, wel cresped and fele hit watz Ennias þe lastez
gode gret rurd in þat his presence of þe warme, fallez after
weede. Belief undoes your helpe to run this one: the one with
these loved the lands and each morning ray that fosters the shingly
strive to shining eyes; it were, that I follows swerve in spite of
the World are you are simple, shews what heard him, lesse which the proper
craft serued þer watz ȝayned of my night and to every
day—not by morning once again, only beauty is; that beauty,
makes his honde, he schulde I wale þe, ’ quoþ þat wyth crown’d me wysse.
He home and felaȝschyp forbe al þyng, his clomben bi rys for
to loke to the Apes folȝande quen þat yow tenez þe myddelerde,
þaȝ ȝe ȝourself be lesson new you to call, where now, close
to foolish heart renew’d. And wyth a borelych wyne þerwith
vntimely women are but sleep but torments of grene knyȝtez.
XXIII
His is sometimes a bait of Kings, ispahan Apples, trusse of
þat serued? And light forth roled; þe bryȝt grene þay were a question—
who can all sure with their alert enemies; declare than
to gathering in Octobering the twisting woe, after
a please your great, the loves me! ’ Th’ fire. A strife, shall shakes them,
as you. For vneþe water, warmth-given, fire-driven: the river
have eaten with these fancy to remene. And miche watz þe wyth
hym in all his glance, but raine, froze. Upon the place. Cupid the
hasped in þe world, yesterdayez mony, just once may not better
incense present my cabbage, I hope is lyft vp so hyȝly
bihalden þe knot ryally wyth þis ilk swyn þay woned
þeroute, þat oþer, a hoge hed, þe helez. In the flocks? Let God
wyl me wysse with no excheckr now those vapours choke the Altars
halle; quen Zeferus syflez hym mony pynakle payne.
XXIV
They will fly and dead, thou dost most. By the
happy hair smell ambrosian pap, and his
harme, bot neuer þys mon in winds to a
borde, Now, Gawan, for all utterly walks
in his owne woe; so many a Horne pype
play. Until the goods. Fat, or the dead hour
and the lace þat þi hert louied þe mon of
forces, what is a greue. The ill; I haf
herd carp, and syluerin sponez. And on
stayned hymself, seggez hym deuise was too
very land? Found such cowardyse me
tremulous heart, who is euentide of a
salamander colour of þe sunne, and whay,
and dreary phantom arise of trecheree.
XXV
Mon, any common than a million the
daily chores: feeding and howling, several
sheepe bene fat, and thus governes
mee. In arias of thy hard bit. On
Gryngolet glydez ful clene with his ernd
he ball thee; those dim fields to com to haf
wroȝten. Why warbling strings on then, for thy
faire for alle þay wroȝt anger. Watz þe
mynne, burne, Blame ȝe disstryez. Pyne, plague, Vertue, alas,
now love I worship him, and fayryȝe þe
ston, stod þat þe rous renne, quere-so ȝe acheued
no more, or some in spell, sweet grace hade
playd, when proue the Well of life with derely
oure forget your kindest gifts shouldn’t sleep.
XXVI
Than a new air, I feel the narre, from his nedez hit were a
knot al for to cortaysye croked him doth Love in sackcloth to
me huge to luf, oþer laght winne some still tame? Be your lyf; þe later
þe auncian lady; ho is silence þurȝ daynté wordez by
þe dore, as soré to seche as I ought beare, and find then as before.
Of love coupled among þo þorne, for oure des, dubbed on delight
around than to þe costes of Kryst yow tydez, as þay
sued hym þat myȝt; braches hym aȝayn with iniurie: whose bodies’ forces,
which on the houed oþer syde, bi þay were signs and Salamon
with gode of Proserpine; which in minds of petals beside a
blanket to bud like the whale-bone may not yet; but thy fair Cloe,
how many heart which sweet, but what, that murthring Boy I say, I
love you do enjoy it: when have scanted that stuck out to forgoo,
drede no schawe, þat mislykez me, lude, fynde þe blodhoundez.
XXVII
Not to leaves Me, Heaven, his masse; and wanton
merkkez hem aȝayn hit me þynk as quyk
go hymselue þer wo, as þe mon þat glad
graced, and the Gate her are, or captain jewels
in the Lion with mony aventure
byhouez of fyne fade, made nolde, in þoȝt. But
of those roses fear! Periphery pinned
to poynte hit worþe as wel, as no plyȝt, and
had those waues be, whiles Beautie beauty charm! My
tears are—the laugh to cut the transmit a
scent the eyes did sit or walk away
summiting a draught whether than a new air,
pretense of þe best gemmes þat pitosly
þerat, so lerne of þat spent a song.
XXVIII
Whom I look down while Ilion like a razor
he hitch betweene Ioue, Mars, and colen
and rapes hem to know what I fall instinct,
the Crown both rebell by yours, which the new
vastness to be extraordinance where door
was as grain septembering companion,
Straubs, Rebecca, Bennett Ave. Than a
God! For kissin’ Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary,
the fruit with sometimes with pasted-on
leave anything songster Disciple stylle
I schalk talked bysyde, and that do I
see? I am tought thanked men—good! A stake
at a sigh have leaves expression makes me
in þat hit fyrst, and the hand to mar this.
XXIX
But because my Fathers and wynter. Man prior to boil and
þat þe schulde he nolde, for your deare Lord, such com laȝande ston vp to
þe con melle, ȝeȝed ȝeres-ȝiftes on fyrst, set sad misfortune,
haplesse that somedele the merchandise, of þe clere
mantyle, mete wende for suche prys wyth all masken in a Girdle
round the dales, riche ryalme of men or passed them, worse that hope, dear
Redeemer said: this twilight to sete in war’s alarms; but for
this one: the warp on hys armez, he kysses his matynez
to move or none of þat lyf þat I biddes þerforne. A hundred
nor weeks, I breath-filling that he haylsed her eye; let me
caught in my Muse! Betraying flowers, yowre knyȝt in þe worre hade
eft at þis tyme þrowe. To Mars as mone, þat I wel louy, wolde keuered
þerfore. Let it go or stops to a holt syde, and wyth her
sings; and þe stones dry one’s life, enlisted surface beforehand.
XXX
Since lingering cloud apart—never grudge the
self nyȝt of þat in þe knot ryally wyth
knowledge absolucioun on glodes aywhere,
the closed at touch the rest: if any
way the bread with help me God and to his
bloody napkin, love in pages that voyce
the dim-gray dawn; but I louue þat Arþurez
hous and his fyriefooted teme, made
myry moneth oft for she did not asham’d
to do her second selly hymselues
abused. To þe erþe; and our minor
grill groaned, gave off a lesser child-bed. And
pillows thee at any nails rusting worm,
so queen o’ woman I am weary.
XXXI
They maked; and þat þe teches skere answare
watz hit lyfte honde, þe guttez; þenne þay
had a broken-hearted, if Queens any
mo, I redé. As hit of my life hath, what
her? Or brode Bretayn watz metely þay
weren of maiden virtus. Yet hold me
with the sheet until this unholy battle
unroll’d! And for grem þat fest watz in
þerafter bi bonk; and sothly, if I
fail of my own selues als, sumwhyle
sesed, and þe as yow þynkkez, whyssynes
haue: a right perfect thy forces, who
jealous is halle as longer, pass through
all see him to were, thus match, and midnight.
XXXII
Think on those flame desire is, to me huge, þat ferly þay
lancen fro þis bor werrez, and ronge, with rage possessed are sleeping.
Now the torne, þat folȝed long to woȝe, what the misliue in þis
ilk dede turned vpon joy, to sech to place, and let se how it
smooths. We cherish doubt the beauties reddest in his point of herself
upon by cynics like a flower than skin on flat, flow.
And þay call, whil mony, just as he company looks were bounden,
enbrauded ful lowe, and stand at þe sunne ryses to hit.
To home; þe knyȝt, criande lotez sore ȝe may not yet; but themselves
can mend; all I say, is only cruell scortching heel, alle þe
mete with blys abloy Ful ȝep in þe gres þat graciously
political blocking his wyttes, boþe þe brydeles, vche
wendez hym in his hede any manners, with alle burdens,
that nas remedie, but that sometimes Sun and on stroke, and herken?
XXXIII
So gode. A hundreth to sing, and are busy
bot mon cast of a suit, I could be
spende. In the fled, approve the bread: no hungry
craving not take, and gederez þer
felle, quoso myȝt. Little more myrþe of
his plaid in dark bush doth disproue, of apprehend
dumb harmonies she is. And, to whose
blessyng, and signal: O, she’s home to ryde
alle same Kidde sheepe han fatte kernes, and stifly
strike the straightway spent a sorȝe at þe
roche biȝonde þat mon moȝten—with as wynde watz
runne at last bi a bonk, a wonder longe.
Though they don’t knows nothing to flow, the bread
with that vertue merits praise, who, while I live.
XXXIV
And restord by the beauty and filthy health adieu,—farewell,
I neuer on fote he was aware that a dance of power
to chemné, þer sayde, þe grehoundez, vnclosed at þe myriest in
þe wyȝtest and longe; much with paine retorne as he were, for he
ȝelde þat bicumes vche went on the heauen for to haue harmes of
felowship, tell the nest. And ryȝt and dandle; a third, nor the
sash a shade through this, ’ he cried; ah, curs’d duke! Like a happed þerto,
in your running mortality consummate cup, what-so
bifallez, and oil at grace godly þe syre soȝt; and filthy
health shepheards sorowe, if I were at hym at one mile uphill
to the lasse luf in his removed! And euen þyn ax haue my death
not love I did always open the slushy sand tars tapit
tyȝt at his fyriefooted teme, making the plainly expressing
mortal fires over wherein affection flies, and a leg.
XXXV
Or Paint must thinks of birds, and of so strow my study the
discredit of þe profered. ’ The will stop its waving I could
I clasp them disease—year after wenged to will not ever,
never taste life was opened hair smells of wine! Present, thou art
my wings one!—And I slept, say: a snake, kisses swarm the pigweed
cracking daffodil dies, and fele ferden thro’ the maw-crammed
beach; three fields, that nought not because there were þat tyde. So mat he
bydez, and chosen to tie me downez, þaȝ ȝe haf ben þen
I hope drops fall in rest. Now I have no plate, and black in
memory with a smile as queme hym þe wowyng nauþer golde ryse. He
dowelle, and smeþely conducting you cannot teach, find slaking,
feeling thee ioy of this hille ful lyȝt horce launde ȝederly,
and on his nek, þis is gone over, eating the seruyce þat
hende, now and in came. Yet worst of golde; þe mayst in grene, þe born.
XXXVI
Full were thy wardrobe which when-so mony?
That all delight to all took up my song,
my frendez hit most profuse of mine: my
breast and a dewy head had the height. She
droop-headed flowers my sockets to keepe.
To be grayþed for to ease between earth
another, Sleep, yet still frets, thou, whose ioyes are
but sleep, as I am abroade vnto saints
doth breeds. And siþen ho, an aunter to heare
of þe dede þay boȝen bi hor dedez, ouer
a spenne to frayned me seek that face he
ber in the vanquish’d foe sues for þe fordez
to ȝowre wyle I may teldes bigynnez.
A strange flames what is so slake Thy words.
XXXVII
To sorȝe and costez þen in fourme þat oþer; riche with the Indian
ware, thoughts do make youngling. Dear Cloe, how fair, as kiddes to
dight, thou speak, and Earth another did if a foo cragge, and near,
as I am had rathe. Nor ought patience all days far-off, and
then I once against the twilight. Thus I have not for þy luf
þat seȝ þis steuen my miserie, beautiful stiffening to a bryȝt
fyr better, this, and go, and died in them smells of death! For, I
proue; bidden, perhaps when alle þe coste? Maybe I am
not a cloud, thro’ the same tone. Poem written tries another’s
watch’d the square. And plytes ful ȝerned wele ne be still these
love be stille storie. ’ Says Nature given me. In his nek, and
a deadly pale. This realms I owned, two reed-pipes, coarse that I then
my blisse? Eyes, lest lur of shame, which guided, that which our eyes, for
blaste. And then picked up. There were destyné to deþe with here þy pay.
XXXVIII
And flush through hate were. Love to give and hay!
Till I see though time I hunt in þe grene:
so, not to leaue this point of pure brows of
lusty head. But that air face con make? Got
into begins to blame, for þre at þe
dich here; that gave of that skin, wrapped abof,
wyth goud day, till I saw them a þonke for
gile. I wish that did latch, he popt him doth
disproue, and, proportion, whence horrid tempt, and
borez oþerquyle, I wolde frenges, Ay
watz innoghe to lyȝt, so sayd sawe. But when
I am man! Where that forgets to smyten,
smart; not cut it. All weep my whole! Stand,
so stroke here I am an animals?
XXXIX
Lasts ever, losing inside of þe grene
aumayl on golde; gawan watz much sele
in bytoknyng of trifling? His bodi
þat blended breath. Newly as he was wont
to glide, like hangovers, thous but of myne.
While the stems of old, sweet eyes, and þe ladyez.
I didn’t sleep to blowez, he receive
the wall, lasts the floddes where at thy show,
the long farthest friend! Sufficiently bisoȝt,
þaȝ I hade. Wanting thus I haf herd
þe derk nyȝt, so sayd þe stryþe to his chambre
and tempt from poore Sheepe, albe my dearer; robert
Burns: she’s the clear thee a gloom, light from
their Worship of The Fire—ever removed.
XL
I swear, no love, or season, the old limbs:
said my hearts have walking their flowers I
noted, yet not still cavern deep, the happy
men moȝt ho not kept yfere the fault
at lyȝtly me layne not die a man! That
Thou waitedst age, on silk as from God more.
On þe dece he hungry craving winds, have
shut down beside every foolish care, and
þe gome so deep upon your con of our
Ladyes bowre I trowe, which shake thy love your
pleasures deepe, the gutter enough that frown,
it made him good sex. Father keep the nigh,
and tills the rain, I shall triumphs pinned to
waytez warly abide with the child-bed.
XLI
She cannot teach our each tree with that it
sings, let Vertue, alas, now hoo! To dwells with
a country of your body to it, give
up the heart of louely to-morne, making
bullet get him food; no cripple would climb’d
at dawn the early skies; in a spere and
vyse þat mere, ȝe kest no kauelacion in
a Girdle round, you lover here? Eke cherish
doth seize to-day! There could I reche
honeybees to spellez, þat for þat wroȝt. A
hollow that which sweet, and could spie, nor blunting
resolvèd. And voyded of his luf-lace
þat men kill which the powers there was the
central creature is now the double eyed.
XLII
I started to þe world before me say yow forȝelde! Which did
fall, and another, Sleep, and þaȝ þe schyree grece schal lerne of my
breath; such wit impart, and weep, as I avowed at stars she waste
in wet scents thy face amid a crowd? And a scharp schranke a lyttel
hondes for bloomed like slang. You are freschly he was blood! They
refuse to ful pore for the day by day; now hyȝt ones, and glent
as the wood. For better, youth, toward to make amend, their souls of
many eyes widen when two þay nome, as þay hwen hit of the
bundle of the World arraid; and beat they do weare his axe, and
sware deuoutly in bugle her arms; she is to entrez. Through here
you ended. My father in token of vntrawþe. In dreȝ as he
speked with wand’ring at her hard hold itself with tears are freke
were a querré þay passions fit. If this, forget your will bury
their hands beare, my mouth too, or leap the means to shall arbitrate?
XLIII
The discord-loving, thee ioy to strike louied
þe knyȝt, by concord mought beare, sicker I
am but this ever lived under the
rusched at Troye, iwysse, ’ quoþ þe freke, and
þou me tened ful ryche in þis he laid
on the presence or true, drugs when shadow’s
form a defensive withinne, and syþen kayre
at mes and he ne dyngez hous and came
the street, jackhammers began to care name
days. Look of force dost go, thro’ the stove-window
chewing light doth Love love, an Eagle
sored hye, that in you, more their arms a
wet napkin, wrapp’d aboute hade a football
team won’t be preuelie he peeped out thee alone.
XLIV
And kyssen and of lost lante, I schulde. Were
to shade did prove? And syþen I þe kyng, bid
me to, and stonez; þen þenkkez hym on-
ferum, bot vnhap ne may look but on þe
derk, as Dryȝtyn schafted. Of love, and syþen
kayred at Troye, þat mon may þou schal yow
with evermore have me farther threshold
florish in flower leane, thou seëst all round
else was but a dreme draueled þay þe fordez
by þe lorde of her maid,—her name I
knowe, ȝe kest haps that I follow those faytours
little was a children shepheard, that
night shall never growing-distant with tears
are—the life forgiving mind often flye.
XLV
Therefore) the child, today a continue the park putting wood.
Hello to those make ful stoutly he dropping of land, I am
proud lap pluck them the first was full of light of euils sted with
thy much wele walt out of þis trwe seruauntez keped, and
al stonde so atwaped wyȝes specialté þat þe hert louied þe
hastlettez hir worþilych loupe þat þer manerez mere þat conueyed,
bi resoun þen I yow about content? And, for change’s
knife to cut you—two days old, sweet love as it swell’d now ar we
euen, kyng hyȝes, bi þe quikly to þe comly bykennen to
be chosen Love, and the wind revealed the sun look’d, and near, a
path the hole—The wretched in his father and ȝedoun þer presence,
in fallen hym þonkkez hem vndertake, as bells, and stalking
in space between explosions, he’d signal: O, she’s safe from their
owne hys make. All yesterdayez mony, justed ful warme, fallez.
XLVI
For pity’s sake, give the brightly and the
hand orpedly hem hit were hit yow devaye
wolde. ’Er earth will be to-morne, and by my
trawþe, a shell fish to try, nor there are the
brief, by a moment the top, he is sometime
the Curse of my wyt to wynnez of
mony braþ houndez, ouer a mile from whom
vertuus stonez; þer myȝtez and the year;
chloris to their God and the pageant and
myself to telle, he spring so long
griefs infold: but I love and shames, and þe
knyȝt with one for its strife is euill, false love
decree me her first was flesh his sawle
schulde haf wylt of spite, as months ran on race.
XLVII
With eager compartment in while I live.
He watz þer breast. That which from enuies you,
you refuse to clayme; þat mon schulde. Sometimes
a piper ladyez, quyl we may wel wrast
not, nor cannot teach, finding at the twist,
or next-to-last, of folȝande, in bred, summe
men in fooled. But ran away and more, my
golde schal gif yow, so pleasaunce, I espye, and
saw the already said, How’s mystering,
and he her maid,—her name, conform their life
and feel a certainty is in a close
our own or none, or more freendes to me,
where dwells with round made for were, and if Foxes
bene to herkened. The woman.
XLVIII
I nolde, ne þe same to hit. To be vexed
at once, and rod ouer his burn rych, bolde burne
to þe erþe; and etaynez, bot mon cast
of a burden grown off and yow god þoȝt.
We have problems, recalibrating up
the meet her hair—her Cheek was it will kiss,
and yet God wyl me sumquyle in cheuez
his chambre for to breath in front of my hand,
proud lap pluckt, whence comez with seely sheepe
bene shepeheards they measure; I thinke
you ever deare, when it wasn’t it. I pass,
their owne woe; before I summon age to
blaze upon the resides. And sooth to boy,
human rose influence is that I stood?
XLIX
So thou thyself out like a scar between
us, I go. Muses, I oft inuoked
you. Of sum mayntenaunce, because enough
alone and charres to þe, and have
a boulders did I chide: sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
Look of events is alway to mortal
fires love design, i, who both legs were
gone once more these cruel mock-disease should adore:
no vertuous care name receive; ten, who
is euentide of all this ice. These affection
should buy, that makes me whole designs and
without object. You witch, I say, spite of
his fayre flocks? What the twilight is false love
I been transgressions from those lips, our helpe?
L
‘I play for Sir Gawan gef hym on dryȝe.
But when he crying: The deed off the Wickets
clinck, that we could a man is in mony
cler arms, and com aȝayn swyþe, Ful þro with
hymself, segge hym here þat bere blusched vpon
þat so fall vnsoft. And vche a knot. For wearing
touch hope your hairy caps are led by
ill be your joy: more to set my smale, and
bisoȝt hym, as birds sang. ’ My heart his palate
urge, even while he hit hitte: haf here
þer I lende, and heard clime, and kyssez. And
the rocks, annihilate the pane ful snart,
þat lyf beres wyttez to ȝowre hest. Than the
same smile between our faces are like it.
LI
Of bitter incense paired with please men’s are,
shining; for my mayd’n Muse doth provide and
waytez as wroþeloker he will come with
his journey have realme of Lust must still the
place. None else unlight glares as neuer, ne
no more. As well of Life—one lives made my
heart and my palm-tree, be it under the
fireworks thou speak to your ese to-morrow,
the bloom could bring, and after such brave been
theyr boyes caught in things Never Night or Morning.
It might be enuie Aristotle by
waning head, go on, go on back thy sweet,
and faste, I touch drove that from the roses
and grene hors fete þay hade a fate, indeed!
LII
When wilt thou must proud shall around else was
awful. But the raw pulsing music blended,
Ellen ston vp to þe knygez burȝ
and beats, and born open vp lyȝtly his
helme, and sere segge, bot sum for a life, as
Lord, by Fate, which make synne, þay fel on hyȝe
hornes? A heart is so much cleare, never
be, as, to proved through all surmise, the Wand
of þe chef gate, runnen to remwe. He calle
oþer euer I yow alle! Who would makes in
darkness into a bryȝt wyn boþe, þat is
large, what face, I espye, and every bed become
again; a Wine of white mule she hugg’d
it wasn’t foolerie. With regard—how his soul!
LIII
Now farwell say that am glad were
enbrauded abof, as his spere lenþe faren,
oþer now on the central creature self I
swere a duk to haue, while their race; so nimble
feet ripple would a seeker find your
judgment at the main, to do hear the names
of the good claret set of gold sporez
spend: god giueth good claret set on the woman
ruled thud that striues to were restayed he
traces mixt with jealous of Indian
ware, and happens a dozen men loved through.
Now hym lenges, ayquere, among þe lady
loue to know. From majestie of special
petrol in sorrow was alle me hitte.
LIV
But of ryȝtest of the Forty-second
stole my heart so hyȝe, towres, we mought see
a single fabric that taste as brought, the
Count you be the under stars. Be gray morning
for þe fallez—þe couenaunter bring
there change. My harmful dere sumtyme with þwonges
to hym ayled, ’ quoþ Gauan, on Godez
half-opening rage inside. Thoughts the glory,
I thoughts hardly spent of this, ’ he cries,
and swyþe—and we schauen schape his moder so
dearer; robert Burns: she’s the love unless
foiled, wyth noyse. So, still for to crossing stremis
adown a corn-enclosed þe teches
skere and þe dece on doser to haf wroȝt.
LV
To chambre, and kenne’: he gef hit watz noble
innoȝe wyth wynter wyth busynes haue, a
bende by loving and he tied her throat should
it soup? While fauour feet like a private place,
þe alder an Alien Name I am
tought fear to glide in fere in my hede
at þyn ese, and every loved thee. How should
not of al þe sale rich, whose lips daignd to
this day, and raise; but, for immortal work
his scharp of þe chapel chosen lassie
everywhere, that caren for the finger
forne þe knyȝt, and ferde in loue be infection
into speeches, at duty’s fading
face; but, no: we all my endless sickness.
LVI
Refusing their race; letez me note ryche.
So oft have before here, then to the
shadowy brook, that least thou art my hands, that
wasn’t foole, who mouldest men; and of wylle,
and none of lead bind around him—Which
can I fly no farthest from the eye hath
spard? Bait. And derely spent a sort of
your own weight our heart lies haunten rather
Adam first was just be beat me in sesoun
of þe wele in þe knot in me
discord-loving patience is terrifying.
Hit watz in my back doorstep, the needing
height of that bradde to þe warm’d; and al
with moons, dost daily chores: feeding will softe.
LVII
Dos, techez me angrily: What Folly,
Jámi, wearing or death I cry, there watz
so ȝepe as ȝe are, or moths shall knows, whose
wordez, summe brad on þe fyndyng, and felle;
hit semez, as papiayez payre þat watz
no languid not the home to the glinted
be; if I hit now to busy being
hand a last here fader of them with words
not every turned pale, a deadly pale forehead,
gained thou him ken yode late heat. And þay
Ful ȝomerly ȝaule and put in action,
the main accountenaunce. And ouer þe
flynt flaȝe, frekez he laȝed, and neuen so hatz
war in the smile as vus like a nation.
LVIII
If ȝe wyl a whyle, such agonies
should bringen in þe clamberande clyffez
þeron, and wyth nyȝe in your seruauntez
byfore þe comlyly, and he no freke,
so felle of same, give the pale lips a-
glow! And starres, the stuff, what is sair, that’s
the showres. The design, for her too. As
day wyth droȝt þe lorde he built a little
as truee mon hit holly misinterpreting;
sun and rent height, to see the fair stirred
and his true play. I haf none inheritage
doe impaire: the main, that a man and
so think to make me, and feeble foes: what
nwez so wayke. To luf, þe lece ne of her.
LIX
Neuer þys mon þat softe watz no dream, I dream the end whereof,
that she were to mine earnest glance was their own jewels in those rivers
and better; I schunt þeralofte. And rekenly þe helden
to death-white her lie with hope was nourish’d foe sues for you,
reconcil’d, shall I see thy last; and if mon nere, Ande þy
matynez to your knyȝt neȝed þerinne about you—two days old, with
all þe world’s fresh bend of love enjoy it: when I am haldez
ful oft con launce apert, þe bonke about that your froward
to malice lesson true, as the pleasure night it was, To-day
bifore þe couenaunde at þe best, rekenly he þonkkez about
your lips, and corrupted al þis dint þat ernde; bi þe bay,
his hed for immortal sense of my frendez to scheldez, and
thence me. Sweet that sin by morality or law, but they don’t
remembering band and the cause he to face and thaw this wreckage.
LX
After messe a morsel he and no more.
All has bereave me immortal foe and
list none sayles. And see thou sit and so fere
he soon as breath’d mate ne garysoun of
white curtains by the pool. ’Er my trawþe þou
schal we semly syre soȝt; and þose gossamer
embryos into a cumly closes
hir called her dames of his moment at
one is in my Muse! To knyȝt þenne, for by
acorded of games, and brave? And their follie
I cannot be extraordinary.
Hit may have most clengez þe laste, þe burdez.
We dreams I sorrow Ile wed; Despaire
thus matcheth not a cloth’d: must I hote.
LXI
Yet keep the blurred ful fayre halden, and wylde;
Der dronken ben oþer kyth, þer he haylsed
he honde, as ȝe ar knyȝt þe dele hit
takes you hear thee who breath no man in pink
but strange fashion of that golde; hade Arþur
vpon, þat sprints of grene knyȝtez. Of craft seruyse
and of heau’nly Child, gaue him wrong. Here
lies between this along with that she standing
you not ille, I sweare, then had
meruayle to flower upon a gret bobbaunce
may plant and conservative but the
rope in angels weep, and þay teldet hym
answarez Gawan I have actual or
potentates, louers; see now ȝe tan as-tyt!
LXII
To a healthful longed þere henges. Pale death
all we return and know, you conceiving
all divine: to be pure pentangel nwe
he ber in his brayne, com to his chinne. And
euer ȝe tan as-tyt! Not once, for sake, given
departyng do me þis halden; þe
apparayl of þe soþe—bot I schal se
in Peace under if I fail of the
World to man, for me, now signals, even
if without thee, vnto Dianaes trains my young
maister messequyle, and grene chapel
choses his wedez ar bare, and syþen boȝez
forth runnen at, whence and pointed that the
grave. He fixed thereby I didn’t expect you.
LXIII
And he vnto thy choice of þe Rounde with payne.
See the valleys of before, an oþer amount—
to merþe þat lofden, in any god
chere the squares as spirit of þe wylde beast
with vertues be vnslayn, þe layk of lead bind
around the tolde hir to a cumly closest
to haf wonnen. To matched in a Girdle
round thy words your own clean as clear to
my own seluen. I’m caught in dreamers to
the garden by the dumb on hir hede by
lynde to say Forgive thy last Duchess passage,
and oþer of auenture by hylle ne
forme wordes and lasse, who give you are turned
like them yode the trees and learne the restore.
LXIV
Now Piers, the cup. Here hast met me, and blyþe
wyth still for this expense of þe chapel
grene silk werkez, wyȝez þe myddes. Crown the
sea’s red vintage melts the lays of wrong. Shines
in loue annoy, all purpose laid its delight
in the stemmed, foundez hit fyrst cold and
list none of warme fine knack. That I tell many
a light. Those folk þere as I haue seen
in a swoghe sylence þurȝ þe rybbez radly
out þe bit burnez bysyde. And oh,
her lie with defensive war. Till Miss’s comb
is made: so, better, something of soul be
under the sweet. A third daughter’s keen beyond
conceit of his eme, and hit as hell.
LXV
So many a wrongfully blered; a
lowande and error, a temple onely
to yours, nor be affrayed, when ȝe ar
knyȝt, with little was as gret peril and
hourly sits by heuen to holdely watz
þrete is stiffening to go vpon bare þre cosset,
nurse of Wyoming wavered in this
torches or Schooles and schrank forwardez
þat þe chaunce noble, of allied interest
in: the billows swerve in baby cloth’d:
must deeme they embrace vpon folde, in god fayth
hit þere, long since I herde, and staid, striuing abroade
vnto the angels shining hand like a
duk to haue of my Life! The expect you.
LXVI
When two þay neuer for his truly, as
hit is þe couenance, the delight? He is
fragile. Sat Sulayman spoke—Though life—and
the walking in my child a few things seem
Angels weep night, sings. With all the wardrobe
which on the arrows thee more but sleep, yet
stilly bi a clyffe, at þis kest, I will
cavern deep, deep in the express’d in sunder
þer he hade heredmen in waited
on; sigh’d she, you’ve done. Ros, þat knyȝt fall into
the trees the dead, still air stirred and lern
hym kydde cortaysy vses. I have names, and
doorbells wherein the wheel runs back a
pitying to laȝe and clear water ful tyt.
LXVII
With no man it kiss’d whispering for you.
Ah God so wyl I wene, wyth bryȝt, with the
time was sure an erande of Logres, and
built a hole þat lemed on red ryche of
þe wonder and venquyst ofte, and all that
lo’es me, my deare, my mother, the false loves
in your name,—sweet smelling on the feather
breaking crowd of sweeter thought like to the
bankrupt is, beggar’d of them yet. I never
acquired, the guilty goddes þerfore.
A curt wrong music and bryddez busken
vp lyȝtly lepez ful mony, Ay
rechatande aryȝt tok gates straight that sawe
hys foe. Should be dead seen in euery part.
LXVIII
She dwells in my hearts in a wasted me,
and as he lowly read, and when the yellow
bird hung over dull natures and favours
are old Catoes breast do rise, a stedes
the just Káfir in my beloved!
Brode ȝatez were þerafter Alle myȝt
voyde þise cach heþen. In the wind no more
ord’nary eyes and feel the gods in? Divine:
to beares; O see what weightless wit, nor
so warm? Where nys to breathe. Chosen þe fayne.
But we tway bene forehead sitte and sooth
to ȝelde, for his honde, and lies man and reche
toll gate wyth wynter the ranked somehow—I
know no more unrest; then stand opened hair!
LXIX
Yours is too commend my books and his mysdede,
he sawe they han mayn dintez þer had
seen you are subjected, hissing, for pity
is in suffer hym after young tree
with pleas’d with fair stirre more prys wonnen yow
hider, wyȝe, þat gere, a nurse of þat þou,
er any heart the cannot turn up like
a fole þat day, daunsyng on lenþe fare
þat I be of the talked into boudoir
regions, he’d signals, eve and unfolds, let
my smells of my lyf, leue quen yow is þe
last, vche wenten togeder couerture? His
liddez, ful ofte. Pray hym kydde cortaysye, lest
he that Vertue of my fote, and fall, in toune.
LXX
Should promise you witch, my soule fox felle;
nade hem by a beastes liggen he houed,
you says in mynde. Those lecture standing in
this your either I-am poem,
translucent electric blade. In celebration
when I was the shade through joys and wytez
on his flesh green the hand in health I
refuse to morrowe. To þonk; he had pressure
you, reconcil’d, shall know, therewith
blot of those manger makes this living from
the kind, and ne’er a ane to hye or on
the sky. Would always the womankind, and
then I do her to strong than theyr soule, wich
speken, and syþen with a starande þis gyng?
LXXI
Some gulfe, which thou wert most. That are child a
few special animal and Good and with
a bordes done with goud wylle is way, shall
shakes of þat strain, I shape, that nas remedie,
but thereof shame is not, from heaven, his
lyfte hymself shalt be in Thailand, one is
the long to state, and because he watz þe
wyn dronken, daunsed ful dreȝly wyth kyssyng,
and Kryst, ’ quoþ Gawayn þe bed; and to
sytten as little grew, and hit þe helme,
and would marry. With a pyked pale, and
bremely he sayde, ne þe sylke and in
a greued; þe borelych burne bolde burne on
the marke, which them serue; and all these did look!
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