The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 01 Poem Rhyme Scheme

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What this mountaigne bymeneth and the merke dale	A
And the feld ful of folk I shal yow faire shewe	B
A lovely lady of leere in lynnen yclothed	C
Cam doun fom the castel and called me faire	D
And seide 'Sone slepestow Sestow this peple	A
How bisie they ben aboute the maze	E
The mooste partie of this peple that passeth on this erthe	F
Have thei worship in this world thei wilne no bettre	D
Of oother hevene than here holde thei no tale'	A
I was afeed of hire face theigh she faire weere	D
And seide ' Mercy madame what may this be to mene '	G
	-
'The tour upon the toft' quod she 'Truthe is therinne	H
And wolde that ye wroughte as his word techeth	F
For he is fader of feith and formed yow alle	A
Bothe with fel and with face and yaf yow fyve wittes	E
For to worshipe hym therwith while that ye ben here	D
And therfore he highte the erthe to helpe yow echone	H
Of woilene of lynnen of liflode at nede	C
In mesurable manere to make yow at ese	E
And comaunded of his curteisie in commune three thynges	E
Are none nedfulle but tho and nempne hem I thynke	I
And rekene hem by reson reherce thow hem after	D
'That oon is vesture from chele thee to save	J
And mete at meel for mysese of thiselve	J
And drynke whan thow driest ac do noght out of reson	H
That thow worthe the wers whan thow werche sholdest	C
For Lot in hise lifdayes for likynge of drynke	I
Dide by hise doughtres that the devel liked	C
Delited hym in drynke as the devel wolde	C
And leccherie hym laughte and lay by hem bothe	F
And al he witte it the wyn that wikked dede	C
Inebriemus eum vino dormiamusque cum eo ut	C
servare possimus de patre nostro semen	H
Thorugh wyn and thorugh wommen ther was Loth acombred	C
And there gat in glotonie gerles that were cherles	E
Forthi dred delitable drynke and thow shalt do the bettre	D
Mesure is medicine though thow muchel yerne	H
Al is nought good to the goost that the gut asketh	F
Ne liflode to the likame that leef is to the soule	A
Leve nought thi likame for a liere hym techeth	F
That is the wrecched world wolde thee bitraye	K
	-
For the fend and thi flessh folwen togidere	D
And that shendeth thi soule set it in thin herte	C
And for thow sholdest ben ywar I wisse thee the beste '	-
'A madame mercy ' quod I ' me liketh wel youre wordes	E
Ac the moneie of this molde that men so faste holdeth	F
Telleth me to whom that tresour appendeth '	-
Go to the Gospel ' quod she 'that God seide hymselven	H
Tho the poeple hym apposede with a peny in the Temple	A
Wheither thei sholde therwith worshipe the kyng Cesar	D
And God asked of hem of whom spak the lettre	D
And the ymage ylike that therinne stondeth	F
Cesares thei seiden 'we seen it wel echone '	-
''Reddite Cesari '' quod God '' that Cesari bifalleth	F
Et que sunt Dei Deo or ellis ye don ille '	-
For rightfully Reson sholde rule yow alle	A
And Kynde Wit be wardeyn youre welthe to kepe	L
And tutour of youre tresor and take it yow at nede	C
For housbondrie and he holden togidres '	-
Thanne I frayned hire faire for Hym that hire made	C
'That dongeon in the dale that dredful is of sighte	C
What may it bemeene madame I yow biseche '	-
'That is the castel of care whoso comth therinne	H
May banne that he born was to bodi or to soule	A
Therinne wonyeth a wight that Wrong is yhote	C
Fader of falshede and founded it hymselve	J
Adam and Eve he egged to ille	A
Counseilled Kaym to killen his brother	D
Judas he japed with Jewen silver	D
And sithen on an eller hanged hym after	D
He is lettere of love and lieth hem alle	A
That trusten on his tresour bitrayed arn sonnest '	-
	-
Thanne hadde I wonder in my wit what womman it weere	D
That swiche wise wordes of Holy Writ shewed	C
And halsede hire on the heighe name er she thennes yede	C
What she were witterly that wissed me so faire	D
'Holi Chirche I am ' quod she thow oughtest me to knowe	B
I underfeng thee first and the feith taughte	C
Thow broughtest me borwes my biddyng to fulfille	A
And to loven me leelly the while thi lif dureth '	-
Thanne I courbed on my knees and cried hire of grace	E
And preide hire pitously to preye for my synnes	E
And also kenne me kyndely on Crist to bileve	J
That I myghte werchen His wille that wroghte me to man	H
'Teche me to no tresor but tel me this ilke	I
How I may save my soule that seint art yholden '	-
'Whan alle tresors arn tried ' quod she Treuthe is the beste	C
I do it on Deus caritas to deme the sothe	F
It is as dereworthe a drury as deere God hymselven	H
Who is trewe of his tonge and telleth noon oother	D
And dooth the werkes therwith and wilneth no man ille	A
He is a god by the Gospel agrounde and olofte	C
And ylik to Oure Lord by Seint Lukes wordes	E
The clerkes that knowen this sholde kennen it aboute	C
For Cristen and uncristen cleymeth it echone	H
' Kynges and knyghtes sholde kepen it by reson	H
Riden and rappen doun in reaumes aboute	C
And taken transgressores and tyen hem faste	C
Til treuthe hadde ytermyned hire trespas to the ende	C
For David in hise dayes dubbed knyghtes	E
And dide hem sweren on hir swerd to serven truthe evere	D
And that is the profession apertly that apendeth to knyghtes	E
	-
And naught to Fasten o Friday in fyve score wynter	D
But holden with hym and with here that wolden alle truthe	F
And never leve hem for love ne for lacchynge of silver	D
And whoso passe th that point is apostata in the ordre	D
But Crist kyngene kyng knyghted ten	H
Cherubyn and Seraphyn swiche sevene and another	D
And yaf hem myght in his majestee the murier hem thoughte	C
And over his meene meynee made hem archangeles	E
Taughte hem by the Trinitee treuthe to knowe	B
To be buxom at his biddyng he bad hem nought ellis	E
'Lucifer with legions lerned it in hevene	H
And was the lovelokest to loke after Oure Lord one	H
Til he brak buxomnesse his blisse gan he tyne	H
And fel fro that felawshipe in a fendes liknesse	E
into a deep derk helle to dwelle there for evere	D
And mo thousandes myd hym than man kouthe nombre	D
Lopen out with Lucifer in lothliche forme	M
For thei leveden upon hym that lyed in this manere	D
Ponam pedem in aquilone et similis ero Altissimo	M
And alle that hoped it myghte be so noon hevene myghte hem holde	C
But fellen out in fendes liknesse ful nyne dayes togideres	E
Til God of his goodnesse garte the hevene to stekie	I
And gan stable it and stynte and stonden in quiete	C
' Whan thise wikkede wenten out wonderwise thei fellen	H
Somme in eyr somme in erthe somme in helle depe	L
Ac Lucifer lowest lith of hem alle	A
	-
For pride that he putte out his peyne hath noon ende	C
And alle that werchen with wrong wende thei shulle	A
After hir deth day and dwelle with that sherewe	B
Ac tho that werche wel as Holy Writ telleth	F
And enden as I er seide in truthe that is the beste	C
Mowe be siker that hire soules shul wende to hevene	H
Ther Treuthe is in Trinitee and troneth hem alle	A
Forthi I seye as I seyde er by sighte of thise textes	E
Whan alle tresors arn tried Truthe is the beste	C
Lereth it th u s lewed men for lettred it knoweth	F
That Treuthe is tresor the trieste on erthe '	-
'Yet have I no kynde knowynge ' quod I 'ye mote kenne me bettre	D
By what craft in my cors it comseth and where '	-
'Thow doted daffe ' quod she dulle are thi wittes	E
To litel Latyn thow lernedest leode in thi youthe	F
Heu michi quia sterilem duxi vitam iuvenilem	M
It is a kynde knowynge that kenneth in thyn herte	C
For to loven thi Lord levere than thiselve	J
No dedly synne to do deye theigh thow sholdest	C
This I trowe be truthe who kan teche thee bettre	D
Loke thow suffre hym to seye and sithen lere it after	D
For thus witnesseth his word worche thow therafter	D
' For Truthe telleth that love is triacle of hevene	H
May no synne be on hym seene that that spice useth	F
And alle his werkes he wroughte with love as hym liste	C
And lered it Moyses for the	F

William Langland

The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 01 Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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