Classic Poem

The Parson him answered, " Bendicite!
What aileth the man so sinfully to swear? "
Our Host answered, " O Jankin, be ye there? "
" I smell a Lollard in the wind, " quoth he.
" Now good man, " quoth our Host, " harken me.
Abideth for Godes digne Passion,
For we shall have a Predication;
This Lollard here would preach us somewhat. "
" Nay by my father's soul! That shall he not, "
Said the Shipman: " Here shall he nought preach,
He shall no Gospel glosen here nor teach.
We all 'lieve in the great God, " quoth he.
" He would sowen some difficulty
Or springen cockle in our clean corn.
And therefore, Host, I warn thee by-forn
My jolly body shall a tale tell
And I shall clinken you so merry a bell
That I shall waken all this company;
But it shall not be of philosophy,
Nor of physic nor termes quaint of law;
There is but little Latin in my maw. "