The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 01 Poem Rhyme Scheme

Recent Interactions*

This poem was read 14 times,

This poem was added to the favorite list by 0 members,

This poem was voted by 0 members.

(* Interactions only in the last 7 days)

New Poems

Wonderful Women
by Umaru Kanneh Boima
Freedom To Scratch In Peace
by Olute Aete
Happy New Year
by Felix Menda
Human Beings
by Dana Graslie
Lust
by Wisdom Greatness
An Isolated Tree's Song
by Sayeed Abubakar
A Strange Boy
by Sayeed Abubakar
O Soil
by Sayeed Abubakar
No War, No War-monger
by Sayeed Abubakar
Night's Town
by Sayeed Abubakar

Popular Poets

1. Emily Dickinson(2414 poems)
2. Madison Julius Cawein(1231 poems)
3. Ella Wheeler Wilcox(1136 poems)
4. William Wordsworth(1016 poems)
5. Robert Burns(986 poems)
6. Edgar Albert Guest(945 poems)
7. Thomas Moore(849 poems)
8. Robert Service(831 poems)

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

Write your comment about The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 01 poem by William Langland

Recent Interactions*

New Poems

Popular Poets