poem index

poet

Anonymous

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by this poet

poem
I

'The wind doth blow today, my love,  
  And a few small drops of rain;  
I never had but one true-love;  
  In cold grave she was lain.  
  
II

'I'll do as much for my true-love 
  As any young man may;  
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave  
  For a twelvemonth and a day.'  
  
III

The twelvemonth and a
poem
O Insewn God--born from Zeus' thigh--
   some folk say in Drakanon,
some in windy Ikaros,
   others say in Naxos,
or by the deep-eddying river Alpheos,
pregnant Semele bore you to thunder-loving Zeus.
Others say you were born in Thebes, Lord,
but all of them lie:
   the father of men and gods gave birth to you
poem
Adam lay ibounden,
     Bounden in a bond;
Four thousand winter
     Thoght he not too long;
And all was for an appil,
     An appil that he tok,
As clerkes finden
     Wreten in here book.
Ne hadde the appil take ben,
     The appil taken ben,
Ne hadde never our lady
     A ben hevene quene.
Blessed be the time