The Avowyng Of Arthur Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Anonymous Olde English

The Avowyng Of Arthur Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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He that made us on the mulde	A
And fair fourmet the folde	A
Atte His will as He wold	A
The see and the sande	A
Giffe hom joy that will here	B
Of dughti men and of dere	B
Of haldurs that before us were	B
That lifd in this londe	A
One was Arther the Kinge	C
Wythowtun any letting	D
Wyth him was mony lordinge	C
Hardi of honde	A
Wice and war ofte thay were	B
Bold undur banere	B
And wighte weppuns wold were	B
And stifly wold stond	A
	-
This is no fantum ne no fabull	E
Ye wote wele of the Rowun Tabull	E
Of prest men and priveabull	E
Was holdun in prise	F
Chevetan of chivalry	B
Kyndenesse and curtesy	F
Hunting full warly	E
As wayt men and wise	F
To the forest thay fare	B
To hunte atte buk and atte bare	B
To the herte and to the hare	B
That bredus in the rise	F
The King atte Carlele he lay	E
The hunter cummys on a day	E
Sayd 'Sir ther walkes in my way	E
A well grim gryse	F
'He is a balefull bare	B
Seche on segh I nevyr are	B
He hase wroghte me mycull care	B
And hurte of my howundes	F
Slayn hom downe slely	E
Wyth feghting full furcely	E
Wasse ther none so hardi	E
Durste bide in his bandus	F
On him spild I my spere	B
And mycull of my nothir gere	B
Ther moue no dintus him dere	B
Ne wurche him no wowundes	F
He is masly made	E
All offellus that he bade	E
Ther is no bulle so brade	E
That in frith foundes	F
	-
'He is hegher thenne a horse	F
That uncumly corse	F
In fayth him faylis no force	F
Quen that he schalle feghte	E
And therto blake as a bere	B
Feye folk will he fere	B
Ther may no dyntus him dere	B
Ne him to dethe dighte	E
Quen he quettus his tusshes	F
Thenne he betus on the busshes	F
All he rives and he russhes	F
That the rote is unryghte	E
He hase a laythelych luffe	G
Quen he castus uppe his stuffe	G
Quo durst abide him a buffe	G
Iwisse he were wighte '	-
	-
He sais 'In Ingulwode is hee '	-
The tother biddus 'Lette him bee	B
We schall that Satnace see	B
Giffe that he be thare '	-
The King callut on knyghtis thre	B
Himselvun wold the fuyrthe be	B
He sayd 'There schalle no mo men	H
Wynde to the bore '	-
Bothe Kay and Sir Gauan	H
And Bowdewynne of Bretan	H
The hunter and the howundus squayn	H
Hase yarket hom yare	B
The Kinge hase armut him in hie	I
And tho thre buirnes hym bie	B
Now ar thay fawre alle redie	E
And furthe conne thay fare	B
	-
Unto the forest thay weynde	E
That was hardy and heynde	E
The hunter atte the northe ende	E
His bugull con he blaw	E
Uncoupult kenettis as he couthe	J
Witturly thay soghte the southe	J
Raches wyth opon mouthe	J
Rennyng on a raw	B
Funde fute of the bore	B
Faste folutte to him thore	B
Quen that he herd he hade care	B
To the denne conne he draw	B
He sloghe hom downe slely	E
Wyth feghting full fuyrsly	E
But witte ye sirs witturly	E
He stode butte litull awe	B
	-
Thay held him fast in his hold	E
He brittunt bercelettus bold	E
Bothe the yunge and the old	E
And rafte hom the rest	E
The raches comun rennyng him by	B
And bayet him full boldely	E
Butte ther was non so hardy	E
Durste on the fynde fast	E
Thenne the hunter sayd 'Lo him thare	B
Yaw thar such him no mare	B
Now may ye sone to him fare	B
Lette see quo dose beste	E
Yaw thar such him nevyr more	B
Butte sette my hed opon a store	B
Butte giffe he flaey yo all fawre	B
That griselich geste '	-
	-
Thenne the hunter turnes home agayn	H
The King callut on Sir Gauan	H
On Bawdewin of Bretan	H
And on kene Kay	E
He sayd 'Sirs in your cumpany	H
Myne avow make I	B
Were he nevyr so hardy	E
Yone Satenas to say	E
To brittun him and downe bringe	C
Wythoute any helpinge	C
And I may have my levynge	C
Hen till tomorne atte day	E
And now sirs I cummaunde yo	K
To do as I have done nowe	B
Ichone make your avowe '	-
Gladdely grawuntutte thay	J
	-
Then unsquarut Gauan	H
And sayd godely agayn	H
'I avowe to Tarne Wathelan	H
To wake hit all nyghte '	-
'And I avow ' sayd Kaye	E
'To ride this forest or daye	E
Quoso wernes me the waye	E
Hym to dethe dighte '	-
Quod Baudewyn 'To stynte owre strife	G
I avow bi my life	G
Nevyr to be jelus of my wife	G
Ne of no birde bryghte	E
Nere werne no mon my mete	E
Quen I gode may gete	E
Ne drede my dethe for no threte	E
Nauthir of king ner knyghte '	-
Butte now thay have thayre vowes made	E
Thay buskutte hom and furth rade	E
To hold that thay heghte hade	E
Ichone sere way	E
The King turnus to the bore	B
Gauan wythoutun any more	B
To the tarne con he fore	B
To wake hit to day	E
Thenne Kay as I conne roune	H
He rode the forest uppe and downe	H
Boudewynne turnes to toune	H
Sum that his gate lay	E
And sethun to bed bownus he	E
Butte carpe we now of ther othir thre	B
How thay prevyd hor wedde fee	E
The sothe for to say	E
	-
Furst to carpe of oure Kinge	C
Hit is a kyndelich thinge	C
Atte his begynnyng	E
Howe he dedde his dede	E
Till his houndus con he hold	E
The bore wyth his brode schilde	E
Folut hom fast in the filde	E
And spillutte hom on gode spede	E
Then the Kinge con crye	B
And carputte of venerie	B
To make his howundus hardi	E
Hovut on a stede	E
Als sone as he come thare	B
Agaynus him rebowndet the bare	B
He se nevyr no syghte are	B
So sore gerutte him to drede	E
	-
He hade drede and doute	E
Of him that was stirrun and stowte	E
He began to romy and rowte	E
And gapes and gones	E
Men myghte noghte his cowch kenne	H
For howundes and for slayn men	H
That he hade draun to his denne	H
And brittunt all to bonus	E
Thenne his tusshes con he quette	E
Opon the Kinge for to sette	E
He liftis uppe wythoutun lette	E
Stokkes and stonis	E
Wyth wrathe he begynnus to wrote	E
He ruskes uppe mony a rote	E
Wyth tusshes of thre fote	E
So grisly he gronus	E
	-
Thenne the Kinge spanos his spere	B
Opon that bore for to bere	B
Ther may no dyntus him dere	B
So sekir was his schilde	E
The grete schafte that was longe	C
All to spildurs hit spronge	C
The gode stede that was stronge	C
Was fallun in the filde	E
As the bore had mente	E
He gave the King such a dinte	E
Or he myghte his bridull hente	E
That he myghte evyr hit fele	E
His stede was stonet starke ded	E
He sturd nevyr owte of that sted	E
To Jhesu a bone he bede	E
Fro wothes hym weylde	E
	-
Thenne the King in his sadul sete	E
And wightely wan on his fete	E
He prays to Sayn Margarete	E
Fro wathes him ware	B
Did as a dughty knyghte	E
Brayd oute a brand bryghte	E
And heve his schild opon highte	E
For spild was his spere	B
Sethun he buskette him yare	B
Squithe wythoutun any mare	B
Agaynus the fynde for to fare	B
That hedoes was of hiere	B
So thay cowunturt in the fild	E
For all the weppuns that he myghte weld	E
The bore brittunt his schild	E
On brest he conne bere	B
	-
There downe knelus he	E
And prayus till Him that was so fre	B
'Send me the victor	B
This Satanas me sekes '	-
All wroth wex that sqwyne	H
Blu and brayd uppe his bryne	H
As kylne other kechine	H
Thus rudely he rekes	E
The Kynge myghte him noghte see	E
Butte lenyt hym doune bi a tree	E
So nyghe discumford was hee	E
For smelle other smekis	E
And as he neghet bi a noke	E
The King sturenly him stroke	E
That both his brees con blake	E
His maistry he mekes	E
	-
Thus his maistry mekes he	E
Wyth dyntus that werun dught	E
Were he nevyr so hard	E
Thus bidus that brothe	J
The Kinge wyth a nobull brande	E
He mette the bore comande	E
On his squrd till his hande	E
He rennes full rathe	J
He bare him inne atte the throte	E
He hade no myrth of that mote	E
He began to dotur and dote	E
Os he hade keghet scathe	J
Wyth sit siles he adowne	H
To brittun him the King was bowne	H
And sundurt in that sesun	H
His brode schildus bothe	J
	-
The King couthe of venery	E
Colurt him full kyndely	E
The hed of that hardy	E
He sette on a stake	E
Sethun brittuns he the best	E
As venesun in forest	E
Bothe the thonge and lees	E
He hongus on a noke	E
There downe knelys hee	E
That loves hur that is free	E
Sayd 'This socur thou hase send me	E
For thi Sune sake '	-
If he were in a dale depe	L
He hade no knyghte him to kepe	L
Forwerr slidus he on slepe	L
No lengur myghte he wake	E
	-
The King hase fillut his avowe	E
Of Kay carpe we nowe	E
How that he come for his prowe	E
Ye schall here more	E
Als he rode in the nyghte	E
In the forest he mette a knyghte	E
Ledand a birde bryghte	E
Ho wepputte wundur sore	E
Ho sayd 'Sayn Mar myghte me spede	E
And save me my madunhede	E
And giffe the knyghte for his dede	E
Bothe soro and care '	-
	-
Thus ho talkes him tille	E
Quille ho hade sayd all hur wille	E
And Kay held him full stille	E
And in the holte hoves	E
He prek	E