Classic Poem

Come on fayre youth and go with me
Vnto that place that is delectable
Bylded with towres of curyosyte
And yet though that ye be lamentable
Whan thou art there you wylt be confortable
To se the merueyles that there be wrought
No man can prynt it in his thought

A path we founde ryght gretely vsed
Where in we went tyll at the last
A castell I sawe wherof I mused
Not fully from me a stones cast
To se the towres I was agast
Set in a valey so strongely fortefyed
So gentyll compassed and well edefyed

The towres were hyghe of adamond stones
With fanes wauerynge in the wynde
Of ryght fyne golde made for the noonys
And roobuckes ran vnder the lynde
And hunters came theym fer behynde
A Ioye it was suche sawe I neuer
Abyde quod she ye shall se a better.

Forth she me ledde to the castell warde
Where we were let in by humylyte
And so after she lede me forwarde
Tyll that I sawe a royall tre
With buddys blossomed of grete beaute
And than we wente in to the hall
That glased was truely with crystall

And hanged was with clothes of Aras
Made of fyne golde with a noble story
How that there some tyme reynynge was
In the regyon of hyghe Italy
A valyaunt emperour and a myghty
That had to name forsothe Tyberius
Whiche dyde enquere of prudent Iosethus

¶ Why he his offycers so longe kepte
Vnto hym he answered a good cause why
Somtyme I sawe a man that slepte
That wounded was full pyteously
And on his woundes suckynge many a fly
I than for pyte moued theym away
By whiche he woke and to me dyde say

¶ Wher that thou trowed to me comfort
Thou now hast done me double greuaunce
Puttynge away the flyes that dyde resorte
To me beynge full of blody sustynaunce
By this thou mayst haue good perseueraunce
That now wyll come the flyes moost hungry
That wyll me byte .x. tymes more greuously

¶ The roof was wrought by merueylous gemetry
Colered with asure gold and gowlys
With knottes coruen full ryght craftely
And set also with wanton fowlys
As popyniays / pyes / Iays / and owlys
And as I loked on my ryght syde
A lady I sawe of meruellous pryde

¶ Syttynge in a chayer at the vpper ende
Of all the hall as a lady and prynces
Amonge many kynges that dyde entende
To be obedyent to her hyghe noblenes
Her apparell was made of moche fayre ryches
Set with rubyes moost pure and rubicound
Embrawded with perles and many a dyamound

Besydes her sate the worthyes nyne
And she amonge theym a whele turnynge
Full lowe to her they dyd than enclyne
She somtyme laughynge and somtyme lowrynge
Her condycyon was to be dyssymelynge
And many exalten vpon her whele
Gyuynge theym grete falles that they dyd fele

Than sayd dyscrecyon beholde and see
That in dame fortune is no stablenes
This worlde also is but a vanyte
A dreme a pompe nothynge in stedfastnes
For fortune is fals and full of doblenes
Whan she moost flatereth she is not sure
As thou mayst se dayly in vre