7 quotes
Uncouthe, unkiste, sayde the olde famous poete Chaucer.
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)
Is not thilke the mery moneth of May,
When love lads masken in fresh aray?
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)
And whither rennes this bevie of ladies bright,
Raunged in a rowe?
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)
To be wise and eke to love,
Is graunted scarce to God above.
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)
Dido, my deare, alas! is dead,
Dead, and lyeth wrapt in lead.
O heavie herse!
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)
To kerke the narre from God more farre,
Has bene an old-sayd sawe;
And he that strives to touche a starre
Oft stombles at a strawe.
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)
So now they have made our English tongue, a gallimaufray or hodgepodge of al other speches.
The Shepheardes Calender (1579)