Classic Poem

By a way wandering as I went,
Well sore I sorrowed, for sighing sad
Of hard haps that I had hent
Mourning me made almost mad;
Till a letter all one me lad,
That well was written on a wall,
A blissful word that on I rad,
That alway said, ‘Thank God for all.’

And yet I read furthermore—
Full good intent I took there till:
Christ may well your state restore;
Nought is to strive against his will;
He may us spare and also spill:
Think right well we be his thrall.
What sorrow we suffer, loud or still,
Alway thank God for all.

Though thou be both blind and lame,
Or any sickness be on thee set,
Thou think right well it is no shame—
The grace of God it hath thee gret.
In sorrow or care though ye be knit,
And worldes weal be from thee fall,
I cannot say thou mayst do bet,
But alway thank God for all.

Though thou wield this world's good,
And royally lead thy life in rest,
Well shaped of bone and blood,
None the like by east nor west;
Think God thee sent as him lest;
Riches turneth as a ball;
In all manner it is the best
Alway to thank God for all.

If thy good beginneth to pass,
And thou wax a poor man,
Take good comfort and bear good face,
And think on him that all good wan;
Christ himself forsooth began—
He may renew both bower and hall:
No better counsel I ne kan
But alway thank God for all.

Think on Job that was so rich:
He waxed poor from day to day;
His beastes died in each ditch;
His cattle vanished all away;
He was put in poor array,
Neither in purple nor in pall,
But in simple weed, as clerkes say,
And alway he thanked God for all.

For Christes love so do we;
He may both give and take;
In what mischief that we in be,
He is mighty enough our sorrow to slake.
Full good amends he will us make,
And we to him cry or call:
What grief or woe that do thee thrall,
Yet alway thank God for all.

Though thou be in prison cast,
Or any distress men do thee bede,
For Christes love yet be steadfast,
And ever have mind on thy creed;
Think he faileth us never at need,
The dearworth duke that deem us shall;
When thou art sorry, thereof take heed,
And alway thank God for all.

Though thy friendes from thee fail,
And death by rene hend their life,
Why shouldest thou then weep or wail?
It is nought against God to strive:
Himself maked both man and wife—
To his bliss he bring us all:
However thou thole or thrive,
Alway thank God for all.

What diverse sonde that God thee send,
Here or in any other place,
Take it with good intent;
The sooner God will send his grace.
Though thy body be brought full base,
Let not thy heart adown fall,
But think that God is where he was,
And alway thank God for all.

Though thy neighbour have world at will,
And thou far'st not so well as he,
Be not so mad to think him ill,
For his wealth envious to be:
The king of heaven himself can see
Who takes his sonde, great or small;
Thus each man in his degree,
I rede thanks God for all.

For Cristes love, be not so wild,
But rule thee by reason within and without;
And take in good heart and mind
The sonde that God sent all about;
Then dare I say withouten doubt,
That in heaven is made thy stall.
Rich and poor that low will lowte,
Alway thank God for all.