Classic Poem

Yit is God a curteis lord,
And mekeliche con schewe his might;
Fain he wolde bringe til acord
Monkinde, to live in treuthe aright.
Allas! why set we that lord so light,
And all too foule with him we fare?
In world is non so wis no wight
That they ne have warning to be ware.

We may not seye, but if we lye,
That God wol vengaunce on us stele;
For openly we see with eye
Thees warninges beoth wonder and fele.
But now this wrecched worldes wele
Maketh us live in sunne and care.
Of mony merveiles I may of mele,
And all is warning to be ware.

Whon the comuynes bigan to rise,
Was non so gret lord, as I gesse,
That they in herte bigon to grise,
And leide heore jolite in presse.
Wher was thenne heore worthinesse,
Whon they made lordes droupe and dare?
Of alle wise men I take witnesse,
This was a warning to be ware.

Bifore, if men hedde had a gras,
Lordes mighte wonder weel
Han let the rising that ther was,
But that God thoughte yit sumdel
That lordes schulde his lordschup feel,
And of heore lordschipe make hem bare.
Trust therto as trewe as steel,
This was a warning to be ware.

And also, whon this eorthe quok,
Was non so proud he nas agast,
And all his jolite forsok,
And thought on God, whil that it last;
And alsone as it was overpast,
Men wox as evel as they dude are.
Uche mon in his herte may cast:
This was a warning to be ware.

Forsothe, this was a lord to drede,
So sodeynly mad mon agast;
Of gold and selver they tok non hede,
But out of her houses full sone they past.
Chaumbres, chimeneys all tobarst,
Chirches and castels foule gon fare,
Pinacles, steples to grounde it cast;
And all was warning to be ware.

The meving of this eorthe, iwis,
That schulde by kinde be ferm and stabele,
A pure verrey tokning it is,
That mennes hertes ben chaungable,
And that to falsed they ben most abul;
For with good feith wol we not fare.
Leef it well withouten fabel,
This was a warning to be ware.

The rising of the comuynes in londe,
The pestilens, and the eorthe-quake—
Theose threo thinges, I understonde,
Betokenes the grete vengaunce and wrake
That schulde falle for sinnes sake,
As this clerkes conne declare.
Now may we chese to leve or take,
For warning have we to ben ware.

Evere I drede, be my trouthe,
Ther may no warning stande in sted;
We ben so full of sinne and slouthe,
The schame is passed the sched of hed,
And we lyen right hevy as led,
Cumbred in the fendes snare.
I leeve this beo ur beste red,
To thenke on this warning and be ware.

Sikerliche, I dar well saye,
In such a plyt this world is in,
Mony for winning wolde bitraye
Fader and moder and all his kin.
Now were heigh time to begin
To amende ur mis and well to fare;
Ur bagge hongeth on a sliper pin,
Bote we of this warning be ware.

Be war, for I con sey no more!
Be war for vengauns of trespas.
Be war and thenk upon this lore.
Be war of this sodeyn cas.
And yit be war while we have spas,
And thonke that child that Marye bare,
Of his gret godnesse and his gras:
Send us such warning to be ware.

Yet is God a curteis lord,
And mekeliche can shewe His might;
Fain He wolde bringe til acord
Mankinde, to live in treuthe aright.
Allas! why set we that lord so light
And al to foule with Him we fare?
In world is none so wise no wight
That they ne have warning to be ware. . . .

When the comùnes began to rise,
Was none so gret lord, as I gesse,
That they in herte bigan to grise,
And laide her jolité in presse.
Wher was thenne her worthinesse,
When they made lordes droupe and dare?
Of alle wise men I take witnesse,
This was a warning to be ware. . . .

And also when this erthe quoke,
Was none so proud he n'as agast,
And al his jolité forsoke,
And thought on God whil that it last;
And as soone as it was over-past
Men wox as evil as they dide are.
Eche man in his herte may cast
This was a warning to be ware.

Forsoothe, this was a lord to drede,
So sudeinly made man agast;
Of gold and selver they took non hede,
But out of her houses ful soone they past.
Chaumbres, chimeneys al to-brast,
Chirches and castels foule gan fare;
Pinacles, steples to grounde it cast;
And al was warning to be ware.

The moving of this erthe, y-wis,
That shulde by kinde be ferm and stable,
A pure, verrày tokning it is
That mennes hertes been chaungàble,
And that to falsed they been most able:
For with good faith wil we not fare.
Leef it wel withouten fable,
This was a warning to be ware.

The rising of the comùnes in lande,
The pestilence, and the erthequake—
These three thinges, I understande,
Betokenes the grete vengàunce and wrake
That shulde falle for sinnes sake,
As these clerkes cunne declare.
Now may we chese to leve or take,
For warning have we to be ware. . . .

Be ware, for I can say no more,
Be ware for vengaunce of trespàs;
Be ware, and thenk upon this lore;
Be ware of this sudein cas.
And yet be ware while we have spas,
And thanke that Child that Mary bare,
Of His gret goodnesse and His gras,
Sende us such warning to be ware.