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Geoffrey Chaucer

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And therfore, at the kynges court, my brother,
Ech man for hymself, ther is noon other.
--
The Knight's Tale, l. 1181-1182.

 
Geoffrey Chaucer

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For hevene myghte nat holden it, so was it hevy of hymself,
Til it hadde of the erthe eten his fille.
And whan it hadde of this fold flessh and blood taken,
Was nevere leef upon lynde lighter therafter,
And portatif and persaunt as the point of a nedle,
That myghte noon armure it lette ne none heighe walles.
Forthi is love ledere of the Lordes folk of hevene,
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I love to think of Him in the world of light to-day, my brother; mine though angels bow before Him, and archangels veil their faces; mine though I am very far from heaven's holiness and heaven's joy; yet He is my brother, and every beating of His heart is a brother's love for me, and though high and lifted up,H'sarm, a brother's, is around me, and will keep me and uphold me, until He gives me a brother's welcome to His and my home in the better land.

 
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Then will he who goes under bless himself for being one who goes over and beyond; and the sun of his knowledge will stand at high noon for him.
"Dead are all gods: now we want the overman to live" — on that great noon, let this be our last will.

 
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Therfore bihoveth hire a ful long spoon
That shal ete with a feend.

 
Geoffrey Chaucer
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