Book Of The Duchesse Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBBBCCDDAAEFGGBBHHIJ KKLLHHBBBBHHMLHHJJGG BBCCBBNNKKHHAABBHHMM FFOOGGHHHHMMHHOOAAAA AHFFOOBBBBBBJ NNDDKKBB HGGJ HHHHHHMMBBGG BGGBBCCGGGGJJHHCCHHF FHHGGGGHBO BBLLHHHHGGOOCCJJPPBB BBBBBB G JLL JGGJJBBGGGGGGBBOOBBL LBD| THE PROEM | A |
| - | |
| I have gret wonder be this lighte | B |
| How that I live for day ne nighte | B |
| I may nat slepe wel nigh noght | B |
| I have so many an ydel thoght | B |
| Purely for defaute of slepe | C |
| That by my trouthe I take no kepe | C |
| Of no thing how hit cometh or goth | D |
| Ne me nis no thing leef nor loth | D |
| Al is y liche good to me | A |
| Ioye or sorowe wherso hyt be | A |
| For I have feling in no thinge | E |
| But as it were a mased thing | F |
| Alway in point to falle a doun | G |
| For sorwful imaginacioun | G |
| Is alway hoolly in my minde | B |
| And wel ye wite agaynes kynde | B |
| Hit were to liven in this wyse | H |
| For nature wolde nat suffyse | H |
| To noon erthely creature | I |
| Not longe tyme to endure | J |
| Withoute slepe and been in sorwe | K |
| And I ne may ne night ne morwe | K |
| Slepe and thus melancolye | L |
| And dreed I have for to dye | L |
| Defaute of slepe and hevinesse | H |
| Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse | H |
| That I have lost al lustihede | B |
| Suche fantasies ben in myn hede | B |
| So I not what is best to do | B |
| But men myght axe me why soo | B |
| I may not slepe and what me is | H |
| But natheles who aske this | H |
| Leseth his asking trewely | M |
| My selven can not telle why | L |
| The sooth but trewely as I gesse | H |
| I holde hit be a siknesse | H |
| That I have suffred this eight yere | J |
| And yet my bote is never the nere | J |
| For ther is phisicien but oon | G |
| That may me hele but that is doon | G |
| Passe we over until eft | B |
| That wil not be moot nede be left | B |
| Our first matere is good to kepe | C |
| So whan I saw I might not slepe | C |
| Til now late this other night | B |
| Upon my bedde I sat upright | B |
| And bad oon reche me a book | N |
| A romaunce and he hit me took | N |
| To rede and dryve the night away | K |
| For me thoghte it better play | K |
| Then playen either at chesse or tables | H |
| And in this boke were writen fables | H |
| That clerkes hadde in olde tyme | A |
| And other poets put in ryme | A |
| To rede and for to be in minde | B |
| Whyl men loved the lawe of kinde | B |
| This book ne spak but of such thinges | H |
| Of quenes lyves and of kinges | H |
| And many othere thinges smale | M |
| Amonge al this I fond a tale | M |
| That me thoughte a wonder thing | F |
| This was the tale There was a king | F |
| That hight Seys and hadde a wyf | O |
| The beste that mighte bere lyf | O |
| And this quene hight Alcyone | G |
| So hit befel therafter sone | G |
| This king wolde wenden over see | H |
| To tellen shortly whan that he | H |
| Was in the see thus in this wyse | H |
| Soche a tempest gan to ryse | H |
| That brak hir mast and made it falle | M |
| And clefte her ship and dreinte hem alle | M |
| That never was founden as it telles | H |
| Bord ne man ne nothing elles | H |
| Right thus this king Seys loste his lyf | O |
| Now for to speken of his wife | O |
| This lady that was left at home | A |
| Hath wonder that the king ne come | A |
| Hoom for hit was a longe terme | A |
| Anon her herte gan to erme | A |
| And for that hir thoughte evermo | A |
| Hit was not wel he dwelte so | H |
| She longed so after the king | F |
| That certes hit were a pitous thing | F |
| To telle hir hertely sorwful lyf | O |
| That hadde alas this noble wyfe | O |
| For him she loved alderbest | B |
| Anon she sente bothe eest and west | B |
| To seke him but they founde nought | B |
| Alas ' quoth she that I was wrought | B |
| And wher my lord my love be deed | B |
| Certes I nil never ete breed | B |
| I make a vowe to my god here | J |
| But I mowe of my lord here ' | - |
| Such sorwe this lady to her took | N |
| That trewely I which made this book | N |
| Had swich pite and swich rowthe | D |
| To rede hir sorwe that by my trowthe | D |
| I ferde the worse al the morwe | K |
| After to thenken on her sorwe | K |
| So whan she coude here no word | B |
| That no man mighte fynde hir lord | B |
| Ful ofte she swouned and saide Alas ' | - |
| For sorwe ful nigh wood she was | H |
| Ne she coude no reed but oon | G |
| But doun on knees she sat anoon | G |
| And weep that pite was to here | J |
| A mercy swete lady dere ' | - |
| Quod she to Iuno hir goddesse | H |
| Help me out of this distresse | H |
| And yeve me grace my lord to see | H |
| Sone or wite wher so he be | H |
| Or how he fareth or in what wyse | H |
| And I shal make you sacrifyse | H |
| And hoolly youres become I shal | M |
| With good wil body herte and al | M |
| And but thou wilt this lady swete | B |
| Send me grace to slepe and mete | B |
| In my slepe som certeyn sweven | G |
| Wher through that I may knowen even | G |
| Whether my lord be quik or deed ' | - |
| With that word she heng doun the heed | B |
| And fil a swown as cold as ston | G |
| Hir women caught her up anon | G |
| And broghten hir in bed al naked | B |
| And she forweped and forwaked | B |
| Was wery and thus the dede sleep | C |
| Fil on hir or she toke keep | C |
| Through Iuno that had herd hir bone | G |
| That made hir to slepe sone | G |
| For as she prayde so was don | G |
| In dede for Iuno right anon | G |
| Called thus her messagere | J |
| To do her erande and he com nere | J |
| Whan he was come she bad him thus | H |
| Go bet ' quod Iuno to Morpheus | H |
| Thou knowest hym wel the god of sleep | C |
| Now understond wel and tak keep | C |
| Sey thus on my halfe that he | H |
| Go faste into the grete see | H |
| And bid him that on alle thing | F |
| He take up Seys body the king | F |
| That lyth ful pale and no thing rody | H |
| Bid him crepe into the body | H |
| Aud do it goon to Alcyone | G |
| The quene ther she lyth alone | G |
| And shewe hir shortly hit is no nay | G |
| How hit was dreynt this other day | G |
| And do the body speke so | H |
| Right as hit was wont to do | B |
| The whyles that hit was on lyve | O |
| Go now faste and hy thee blyve ' | - |
| This messager took leve and wente | B |
| Upon his wey and never ne stente | B |
| Til he com to the derke valeye | L |
| That stant bytwene roches tweye | L |
| Ther never yet grew corn ne gras | H |
| Ne tree ne nothing that ought was | H |
| Beste ne man ne nothing elles | H |
| Save ther were a fewe welles | H |
| Came renning fro the cliffes adoun | G |
| That made a deedly sleping soun | G |
| And ronnen doun right by a cave | O |
| That was under a rokke y grave | O |
| Amid the valey wonder depe | C |
| Ther thise goddes laye and slepe | C |
| Morpheus and Eclympasteyre | J |
| That was the god of slepes heyre | J |
| That slepe and did non other werk | P |
| This cave was also as derk | P |
| As helle pit over al aboute | B |
| They had good leyser for to route | B |
| To envye who might slepe beste | B |
| Some henge hir chin upon hir breste | B |
| And slepe upright hir heed y hed | B |
| And some laye naked in hir bed | B |
| And slepe whyles the dayes laste | B |
| This messager come flying faste | B |
| And cryed O ho awake anon ' | - |
| Hit was for noght ther herde him non | G |
| Awak ' quod he who is lyth there ' | - |
| And blew his horn right in hir ere | J |
| And cryed awaketh ' wonder hye | L |
| This god of slepe with his oon ye | L |
| Cast up axed who clepeth there ' | - |
| Hit am I ' quod this messagere | J |
| Iuno bad thou shuldest goon' | G |
| And tolde him what he shulde doon | G |
| As I have told yow here tofore | J |
| Hit is no need reherse hit more | J |
| And wente his wey whan he had sayd | B |
| Anon this god of slepe a brayd | B |
| Out of his slepe and gan to goon | G |
| And did as he had bede him doon | G |
| Took up the dreynte body sone | G |
| And bar hit forth to Alcyone | G |
| His wif the quene ther as she lay | G |
| Right even a quarter before day | G |
| And stood right at hir beddes fete | B |
| And called hir right as she hete | B |
| By name and sayde my swete wyf | O |
| Awak let be your sorwful lyf | O |
| For in your sorwe there lyth no reed | B |
| For certes swete I nam but deed | B |
| Ye shul me never on lyve y see | L |
| But good swete herte look that ye | L |
| Bury my body at whiche a tyde | B |
| Ye mowe hit finde the | D |
Geoffrey Chaucer
(1)
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About Book Of The Duchesse
Book Of The Duchesse is a poem by Geoffrey Chaucer. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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