Classic Poem

O litil book, who yaf thee hardynesse
Thy wordes to pronounce in the presence
Of kynges ympe and princes worthynesse,
Syn thow al nakid art of eloquence?
And why approchist thow his excellence
Vnclothid, sauf thy kirtil, bare also?
I am right seur, his humble pacience
Thee yeueth hardynesse to do so.

But o thyng woot I wel, go wher thow go.
I am so pryuee vnto thy sentence,
Thow haast and art and wilt been eueremo
To his hynesse of swich beneuolence
Thogh thow nat do him due reuerence
In wordes, thy cheertee nat is the lesse.
And if lust be to his magnificence
Do by thy reed, his welthe it shal witnesse.

Byseeche him of his gracious noblesse,
Thee holde excusid of thyn innocence
Of endytynge, and with hertes humblesse,
If any thyng thee passe of negligence,
Byseeche him of mercy and indulgence,
And þat for thy good wil he be nat fo
To thee, þat al seist of loues feruence.
þat knowith God, whom no thyng is hid fro. Cest tout.

Item, au roy, que dieu pardoint

Victorious kyng, our lord ful gracious,
We humble ligemen to your hynesse
Meekly byseechen yow, o kyng pitous,
Tendre pitee haue on our sharp distresse.
For but the flood of your rial largesse
Flowe vpon us, gold hath vs in swich hate
þat of his loue and cheertee the scantnesse
Wole arte vs three to trotte vnto Newgate.

Benigne lige lord, o hauene and yate
Of our confort, let your hy worthynesse
Our indigences softne and abate.
In yow lyth al yee may our greef redresse.
The somme þat we in our bille expresse
Is nat excessif ne outrageous.
Our long seruice also berith witnesse,
We han for it be ful laborious.

O lige lord þat han be plenteuous
Vnto your liges of your grace algate,
Styntith nat now for to be bonteuous
To vs, your seruantz of the olde date.
God woot we han been ay, eerly and late,
Louynge lige men to your noblesse
Lat nat the strook of indigence vs mate,
O worthy prince, mirour of prowesse.Cest tout.