Poems you ought to know . an the water hastily do fecche a book, quod he,And if this knyght wol sweren how that sheThis womman slow, yet wol we us avyseWhom that we wole that shall been our justise. A Briton book written with EvaungilesWas fet, and on this book he swore anoonShe gilty was, and in the meene whilesAn hand hym smoot upon the nekke doun he fil atones as a stoon;And bothe hise eyen broste out of his faceIn sighte of every body in that placet A voys was herd in general audienceAnd seyde, Thou has desclaundred, doghter of hooly chirche in heigh presenc
Poems you ought to know . an the water hastily do fecche a book, quod he,And if this knyght wol sweren how that sheThis womman slow, yet wol we us avyseWhom that we wole that shall been our justise. A Briton book written with EvaungilesWas fet, and on this book he swore anoonShe gilty was, and in the meene whilesAn hand hym smoot upon the nekke doun he fil atones as a stoon;And bothe hise eyen broste out of his faceIn sighte of every body in that placet A voys was herd in general audienceAnd seyde, Thou has desclaundred, doghter of hooly chirche in heigh presence;Thus hastou doon, and yet holde I my this mervaille agast was al the prees:As mazed folk they stoden everichone,For drede of wreche, save Custance allone. Greet was the drede, and eek the hem that hadden wronge suspeciounUpon this sely, innocent Custance;And for this miracle, in by Custances mediacioun,The Kyng, and many another in that placeConverted was—thanked be Christes grace!. 6i DELIGHT IN DISORDER. BY EGBERT HERRICK. It Is in such poems as the following one that Herrick is at his best;his religious, or, as he called them, his noble numbers, being for themost part inferior. But in his lyrics, as Austin Dobson says, his num-bers are of gold. A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness; A lawn about the shoulders thrown, Into a fine distraction ; An erring lace, which here and there Enthralls the crimson stomacher; A cuff neglected, and thereby Ribbands to flow confusedly; A winning wave, deserving note. In the tempestuous petticoat; A careless shoestring, in whose tie I see a wild civility; Doth more bewitch me than when art Is too precise in every part.
Size: 1835px × 1362px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye
