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‘Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte Declare o poynt of alle my sorwes smerte To yow, my lady, that I love most; But I biquethe the service of my gost To yow aboven every creature, Sin that my lyf may no lenger dure. Allas, the wo! allas, the peynes stronge, That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! Allas, the deeth! allas, myn Emelye! Allas, departing of our companye! Allas, myn hertes quene! allas, my wyf! Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf! What is this world? what asketh men to have? Now with his love, now in his colde grave Allone, with-outen any companye. Far-wel, my swete fo! myn Emelye! And softe tak me in your armes tweye, For love of God, and herkneth what I seye. ‘Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte Declare o poynt of alle my sorwes smerte To yow, my lady, that I love most; But I biquethe the service of my gost To yow aboven every creature, Sin that my lyf may no lenger dure. Allas, the wo! allas, the peynes stronge, That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! Allas, the deeth! allas, myn Emelye! Allas, departing of our companye! Allas, myn hertes quene! allas, my wyf! Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf! What is this world? what asketh men to have? Now with his love, now in his colde grave Allone, with-outen any companye. Far-wel, my swete fo! myn Emelye! And softe tak me in your armes tweye, For love of God, and herkneth what I seye.
I have heer with my cosin Palamon Had stryf and rancour, many a day a-gon, For love of yow, and for my Ielousye. And Iupiter so wis my soule gye, To speken of a servant proprely, With alle circumstaunces trewely, That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knighthede, Wisdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kinrede, Fredom, and al that longeth to that art, So Iupiter have of my soule part, As in this world right now ne knowe I non So worthy to ben loved as Palamon, That serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf. And if that ever ye shul been a wyf, Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man.’ I have heer with my cosin Palamon Had stryf and rancour, many a day a-gon, For love of yow, and for my Ielousye. And Iupiter so wis my soule gye, To speken of a servant proprely, With alle circumstaunces trewely, That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knighthede, Wisdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kinrede, Fredom, and al that longeth to that art, So Iupiter have of my soule part, As in this world right now ne knowe I non So worthy to ben loved as Palamon, That serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf. And if that ever ye shul been a wyf, Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man.’

Original Text

Modern Text

‘Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte Declare o poynt of alle my sorwes smerte To yow, my lady, that I love most; But I biquethe the service of my gost To yow aboven every creature, Sin that my lyf may no lenger dure. Allas, the wo! allas, the peynes stronge, That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! Allas, the deeth! allas, myn Emelye! Allas, departing of our companye! Allas, myn hertes quene! allas, my wyf! Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf! What is this world? what asketh men to have? Now with his love, now in his colde grave Allone, with-outen any companye. Far-wel, my swete fo! myn Emelye! And softe tak me in your armes tweye, For love of God, and herkneth what I seye. ‘Naught may the woful spirit in myn herte Declare o poynt of alle my sorwes smerte To yow, my lady, that I love most; But I biquethe the service of my gost To yow aboven every creature, Sin that my lyf may no lenger dure. Allas, the wo! allas, the peynes stronge, That I for yow have suffred, and so longe! Allas, the deeth! allas, myn Emelye! Allas, departing of our companye! Allas, myn hertes quene! allas, my wyf! Myn hertes lady, endere of my lyf! What is this world? what asketh men to have? Now with his love, now in his colde grave Allone, with-outen any companye. Far-wel, my swete fo! myn Emelye! And softe tak me in your armes tweye, For love of God, and herkneth what I seye.
I have heer with my cosin Palamon Had stryf and rancour, many a day a-gon, For love of yow, and for my Ielousye. And Iupiter so wis my soule gye, To speken of a servant proprely, With alle circumstaunces trewely, That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knighthede, Wisdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kinrede, Fredom, and al that longeth to that art, So Iupiter have of my soule part, As in this world right now ne knowe I non So worthy to ben loved as Palamon, That serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf. And if that ever ye shul been a wyf, Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man.’ I have heer with my cosin Palamon Had stryf and rancour, many a day a-gon, For love of yow, and for my Ielousye. And Iupiter so wis my soule gye, To speken of a servant proprely, With alle circumstaunces trewely, That is to seyn, trouthe, honour, and knighthede, Wisdom, humblesse, estaat, and heigh kinrede, Fredom, and al that longeth to that art, So Iupiter have of my soule part, As in this world right now ne knowe I non So worthy to ben loved as Palamon, That serveth yow, and wol don al his lyf. And if that ever ye shul been a wyf, Foryet nat Palamon, the gentil man.’