< Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu
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ANONYMOUS

Jeo vous pry sans debat
That ye wolde of myn estat
  Audire;
Sertfyés a vous jeo fay
I wil in time whan I may
  Venire.

Pur vostre amour, allas, allas!
I am werse than I was
  Per multa:
Jeo suy dolourouse en tut manere,
Woulde God in youre armes I were
  Sepulta!

Vous estes ma morte et ma vye,
I preye you for your curteisie
  Amate,
Cestes maundés jeo vous pry
In youre herté stedefastly
  Notate.

This World's Joy

c. 1300

WYNTER wakeneth al my care,
Nou thise leves[1] waxeth bare;
Ofte I sike[2] and mourne sare
When hit cometh in my thoht
Of this worldes joie, hou hit geth al to noht.

9
 
  1. this leves] these leaves.
  2. sike] sigh.
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