Classic Poem

Lord, how sholde I roule me,
Of al men y-praised to be?

If I holde the lowe asise,
And take aray of litel prise,
Then men wil say: ‘He is nought wise;
He is a fon; let him be.’

And if I take the mene astate,
And with none man make debate,
Then men wil say, erly and late,
That I am worth no maner fee.

And if I take grete aray,
Hors and houndes and clothes gay,
Then men wil say every day
That I passe my degree.

Then take thou heede of the oxe;
Go nought to lowe for the foxe,
Nether to hey til thou be wox,
For the kite that wolde thee slee.

Therfor looke that thou be sley:
For no thing hew thou to hey,
Lest they falle down into thy ey
The spones that above thee be.