Geoffrey Chaucer (1343 – 1400)
English author, poet, philosopher, bureaucrat, and diplomat.
Men sholde wedden after hir estat,
For youthe and elde is often at debat.
Oon ere it herde, at tothir out it wente.
And for to see, and eek for to be seie.
Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie.
A Clerk ther was of Oxenforde also.
And brought of mighty ale a large quart.
Or as an ook comth of a litel spir,
So thorugh this lettre, which that she hym sente,
Encressen gan desir, of which he brente.
And therfore, at the kynges court, my brother,
Ech man for hymself, ther is noon other.
To maken vertue of necessite.
Loke who that is most vertuous alway,
Prive and apert, and most entendeth ay
To do the gentil dedes that he can,
And take him for the gretest gentilman.
For thogh we slepe, or wake, or rome, or ryde,
Ay fleeth the tyme; it nyl no man abyde.
I hold a mouses wit not worth a leke,
That hath but on hole for to sterten to.
He helde about him alway, out of drede,
A world of folke.
Nowher so bisy a man as he ther nas,
And yet he semed bisier than he was.
Mordre wol out, that se we day by day.
That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis.
He was a verray, parfit gentil knyght.
Nature, the vicar of the Almightie Lord.
For May wol have no slogardie a-night.
The seson priketh every gentil herte,
And maketh him out of his slepe to sterte.
He coude songes make, and wel endite.