' PALEYS [1], whylom croune of houses alle, <br />Enlumined with sonne of alle blisse! <br />O ring, fro which the ruby is out-falle, <br />O cause of wo, that cause hast been of lisse! <br />Yet, sin I may no bet, fayn wolde I kisse <br />Thy colde dores, dorste I for this route; <br />And fare-wel shryne, of which the seynt is oute!' <br /> <br />Fro thennesforth he rydeth up and down, <br />And every thing com him to remembraunce <br />As he rood forth by places of the town <br />In whiche he whylom hadde al his plesaunce. <br />'Lo, yond saugh I myn owene lady daunce; <br />And in that temple, with hir eyen clere, <br />My caughte first my righte lady dere. <br /> <br />And yonder have I herd ful lustily <br />My dere herte laughe, and yonder pleye <br />Saugh I hir ones eek ful blisfully. <br />And yonder ones to me gan she seye, <br />'Now good swete, love me wel, I preye.' <br />And yond so goodly gan she me biholde, <br />That to the deeth myn herte is to hir holde. <br /> <br />And at that corner, in the yonder hous, <br />Herde I myn alderlevest lady dere <br />So wommanly, with voys melodious, <br />Singen so wel, so goodly, and so clere, <br />That in my soule yet me thinketh I here <br />The blisful soun; and, in that yonder place, <br />My lady first me took un-to hir grace.' <br /> <br />'O sterre, of which I lost have al the light, <br />With herte soor wel oughte I to bewayle, <br />That ever derk in torment, night by night, <br />Toward my deeth with wind in stere I sayle; <br />For which the tenthe night if that I fayle <br />The gyding of thy bemes brighte an houre, <br />My ship and me Caribdis wol devoure.'<br /><br />Geoffrey Chaucer<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-complaint-of-troilus/
