Middle English Poetry in Modern Verse by Joseph Glaser

By Joseph Glaser

This wealthy and vigorous anthology bargains a vast choice of center English poetry from approximately 1200 to 1500 C.E., together with greater than one hundred fifty secular and spiritual lyrics and 9 whole or extracted longer works, all translated into sleek English verse that heavily resembles the unique types. 5 whole satires and narratives illustrate very important conventions of the interval: "Athelston", a ancient romance; "The Cock and the Fox", a beast myth via Robert Henryson; "Sir Orfeo", a Breton lai; "Saint Erkenwald", an alliterative saint's lifestyles; and, "The Land of Cockayne", a myth. The booklet concludes with mammoth excerpts from longer narratives reminiscent of Piers Plowman and Confessio Amantis. The poems are followed through introductions, notes, marginal glosses, resource notes, and appendixes, together with a bibliography and a listing to aid readers find the lyrics in present original-language variants.

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Of God having no care. Who is most rich, with them they will be. Severe Where need is. Never giving alms away. Without reason. Thus are priests, I say. Ringler MS Index 1776. Pembroke College, Cambridge, MS 307. Sixteenth century. Unique. 51 I hold him wise and rightly taught Who bears a horn, but blows it not. Blowing fits the greatest game. Blow for less, and bear the blame. And so I hardly hold it shame To bear a horn, but blow it not. Horns can sound forth loud and shrill. When you should blow, sirs, blow your fill, But when you shouldn’t, hold you still, And bear your horn, but blow it not.

Who is most rich, with them they will be. Severe Where need is. Never giving alms away. Without reason. Thus are priests, I say. Ringler MS Index 1776. Pembroke College, Cambridge, MS 307. Sixteenth century. Unique. 51 I hold him wise and rightly taught Who bears a horn, but blows it not. Blowing fits the greatest game. Blow for less, and bear the blame. And so I hardly hold it shame To bear a horn, but blow it not. Horns can sound forth loud and shrill. When you should blow, sirs, blow your fill, But when you shouldn’t, hold you still, And bear your horn, but blow it not.

I loved a lad and loved him free. I thought he felt the same for me. (burden) 28 Middle English Poetry in Modern Verse Now I myself the truth can see, That he is far. He promised to be kind and true And never change for someone new. Now I am sick and pale of hue, For he is far. He said he’d never do me ill, And so I let him have his will. Now I am sick and mourning still, For he is far. Index 1330. Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge, MS 383. Fifteenth century. Unique. 28 I am old, and age can bite.

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