Classic Poem

This worlde is full of variaunce
In everything, who taketh hede:
The feith and trust and all constaunce
Exiled ben, this is no drede;
And, save oonly in womanhede,
I can see no sikernesse.

But, for all that, yet, as I rede,
Bewar alway of doublenesse.
Also these freshe somer floures,
White and rede, blew and grene,
Ben sodeinly with winter shoures
Made feint and fade, withoute wene:
That trust is noon, as ye may sene,
In nothing, nor no stedfastnesse,
Except in women, thus I mene.
Yet ay bewar of doublenesse.

The croked moone--this is no tale--
Som while is shene and bright of hewe,
And, after that, ful derk and pale,
And every monith chaungeth newe:
That whoso the verray sothe knewe,
Alle thinge is bilte on brotilnesse,
Save that women ay be trewe--
Yet ay bewar of doublenesse.

The see eke with his sterne wawes
Eche day floweth new agein,
And by concourse of his lawes
The ebbe followeth in certein;
After gret drought ther cometh a reine,
That, farewell! here, all stabelnesse,
Save that women he hool and pleine--
Yet ay bewar of doublenesse.

Fortune's whele gooth rounde about
A thousande times day and night,
Whos course stondeth ever in doute,
For to transmewe she is so light.
For which adverteth in your sight
The untrust of worldly fikelnesse,
Save women, which of kindely right
Ne have no tache of doublenesse.

Wherfore, whoso hem accuse
Of any double entencioun,
To speke, roune, outher to muse,
To pinche at her condicioun,
Alle is but fals collusioun,
I dar right welle the sothe expresse:
They have no bette proteccioun
But shroude hem under doublenesse.

Sampson had experience
That women weren full trew founde,
Whan Dalida, of innocence,
With sheres gan his hede to rounde.
To speke also of Rosamounde,
And Cleopatra's feithfulnesse,
The stories pleinly will confounde
Men that apeche her doublenesse.
L'envoi.

O! ye women, which ben inclined,
By influence of youre nature,
To ben as pure as golde ifined,
In your trouthe for to endure
Arme yourselfe in stronge armure,
Leste men assaile youre sikernesse:
Sette on youre brest, yourself t'assure,
A mighty shelde of doublenesse.