And God, to whom there may nothing hid be,
If he in women knowen had soch malice,
As men recorde of hem in generalte,
Of our lady of life reperatrice,
Nolde haue be borne, but that she of vice
Was voide, and full of vertue well he wist,
Endowed, of her to be borne him list.

Her heaped vertue hath soch excellence,
That all to leane is mans faculte
To declare it, and therefore in suspence,
Her due praysing put needs must be,
But thus I say, verely that she

Next God, best frend is that to man longeth,
The key of mercy by her girdle hongeth.

And of mercy hath euery man soch need,
That resing that, farewell the joy of man,
And of her power now taketh right good heed
She mercy may well, and purchase can,
Displeaseth her not, honoureth that woman,
And other women all for her sake,
And but ye doe, your sorow shall awake.

In any booke also where can 'ye find,
That of the werkes of death or of life
Of Iesu, spelleth or maketh any mind,
That women him forsoke, for wo or strife?
Where was there any wight so ententife
About him, as woman? proued none,
The apostles him forsoken euerichone.

Women forsoke him not, for all the fayth
Of holy church in woman left onely,
This is no lees, for thus holy writ sayth,
Looke and ye shall so finde it hardely:
And therefore I may well preue thereby,
That in women reigneth stable constaunce,
And in men is the chaunge of variaunce.
Thou precious gem of martirs, Margarite,
That of thy blood dredest none effusion,
Thou louer true, thou maiden mansuete,
Thou constant woman in thy passion,
Ouercame the fendes temptacion,
And many a wight converted thy doctrine
Unto the faith of holy God thou virgine.

[nought

But vnderstandėth this, I onely commend her
By encheson of her virginity,
Trusteth it came never in my thought,
For ever werre I ayenst chastity,
And ever shall, but lo this meveth me,
Her loving herte, and constant to her lay,
Drive out of remembraunce I ne may.

Now holdeth this for ferme, and for no ly,
That this true and just commendacion
Of women, tel I for no flattery,
Ne bicause of pride or elacion,
But onely lo, for this entencion,

To yeve hem courage of perseveraunce
In vertue, and hir honour to avaunce.

The more vertue, the lasse is the pride,
Uertue so digne is and so noble in kind,
That vice and he woll not in fere abide,
He putteth vices cleane out of his mind,
He fieth fro hem, he leaveth hem behind,
woman that of vertue art hostresse,
Great is thy honour and thy worthinesse.

Wherfore now plainly I wol my stile dresse
Of one to speake, at need that woll not faile,
Alas for dole I ne can ne may expresse
Her passing prise, and that is no mervaile,
O winde of grace, now blowe unto my saile,
O auriate licour of Cleo for to write,
My penne enspire of that I woll endite.

Alas, vnworthy I am and unable

'To love soch one, all women surmounting,
But she be benigne to me and merciable,
That is of pity the well and eke the spring,
Wherefore of her in laude and in praising,
So as I can, supported by her grace,
Right thus I say, kneeling tofore her face.

O sterre of sterres with thy streames clere,
Sterre of the sea, to shipmen light and gide,
O lusty living most pleasaunt to appere,
Whose bright beams the cloudes may not hide,
O way of life to them that go or ride,
Hauen after tempest surest vp to riue,
On me haue mercy for thy joyes fiue.

O rightful rule, O bote of holinesse,
And lightsome line of pity for to plain,
Original beginning of grace and all goodnesse,
And cleanest conduit of vertue most souerain
Mother of mercy, our trouble to restrain,
Chamber and closet clennest of chastity,
And named herbrough of the deity.

O closet garden all void of weedes wicke,
Cristallin welle, of clerenesse clere consigned,
Fructified oliue of oiles, faire and thick,
And redolent cedre most dere worthy digned
Remember on sinnes that to thee be assigned,
Or wicked fendes hir wrath on hem wreche,
Lanterne of light thou hir liues leche.

Paradise of pleasaunce, gladsome to al good,
Benigne braunchelet of the pine tree,
Vinary enuermailed, refresher of our blood,
Licour ayen al langour, that pallad may not be,
Blisful blomy bloseme, biding in bountee,
Thy mantel of mercy on our misery sprede,
And er wo awake wrap vs vnder thy wede.

O rody rosier, flouring without spine,
Fountain all filthlesse, as byrel currant clere,
Som drop of thy graceful dew to vs propine,
O light without nebule, shining in thy sphere,
Medicine to mischeues, purcel without pere,
Flame doun the doleful light of thine influence,
Remembring thy seruants for thy magnificence,

Of all christen protectrice and tutele,
Retourne of exiled put in the proscripcion,
To hem that erren in the pathe of hir sequele,
To wery forwandred, tent and pauilion,
To faint and to fresh the pausación,
Unto varesty, both rest and remedy,
Fruitful to all tho that in her affie.

To hem that reunen thou art itenerary,
O blisfull brauy to knights of thy warre,
To wery werkmen she is diourne deuary,
Mede vnto mariners that haue sailed farre,
Laureate croune streming as a starre,

To hem that put hem in palastre for thy sake,
Tours of hir conquest, thou white as any lake.

O mirth of martyrs, sweter than sitole,
Of confessours also richest donatife,
Unto virgines eternal lauriole,
Afore all women hauing prerogatife,
Mother and maide, both widow and wife,
Of all the world is none but thou alone,
-Now sith thou may, be succour to my mone.

O trustie turtle truefastest of all true,
O curteýse columbe, replete of all mekenesse,
O nightingale with thy notes newe,
O popiniay pured with all clennesse,
O laueroke of loue, singing with sweetnesse,
Phebus awaiting till on the brest he light,
Under thy wing at domesday vs dight.

ruby rubified in the passion
Of thy sonne, vs haue among in mind,
O stedfast diametre of duracion,

That few feres any time might thou find,
For none to his was founden half so kind,
O hardy herte, O louing creature,

What was it but loue that made thee so endure.

Semely saphre, depe loupe and blew ewage,
Stable as the loupe ewage of pitee,
This is to say the freshest of visage,

Thou louest unchaunged hem that seruen thee,
And if offence or varying in hem bee,
Thou art ay redy vpon hir wo to rue,
And hem receiuest with herte full true.

O goodly gladded whan that Gabriell
With joy the grette, that may not be nombred,
Or half the blisse who coude write or tell,
Whan the Holy Ghost to thee was obumbred,
Wherthrough fends were biterly encombred,
O wemlesse maid embelished in his birth,
That man and angell thereof hadden mirth.

Lo here the blosme and the budde of glory,
Of which the prophet so long spake beforne,
Lo here the fame that was in memory,

Of Esay, so long as she was borne,
Lo here of David the delicious corne,
Lo here the ground of life in to builde,
Becomming man our ransome for to yelde.

O glorious viole and vite inuiolate,
O firy Titan, persing with thy bemes,
Whose vertuous brightnes was in brest vibrat
That al the world embelished with the leams,
Conseruatrice of kings, dukes and realms,
Of Isaies seede sweet Sunamite,
Mesure my mourning mine own Margarite.

O soueraignest sought out of Sion,
Cockle with gold dewe from aboue berained,
Dew bush vnbrent firelesse fire set ou,
Flaming with feruence not with heat pained,
During daisie that no weather stained,
Fleece vndefouled of gentilest Gedion,
And fructifying fairest the yerd of Aaron,

The mighty arch, probatife piscine,
Laughing Aurore, and of peace oliue,
Columpne and base, vp bearing from abym,
Why nere I conning here to discriue,
Chosen of Ioseph, whom he took to wiue,
Unknowing him, chiding by miracle,
And of our manly figure the tabernacle.

I have none English conuenient and digne,
Mine hertes heale lady thee with to honour,
Iuory cleane, therefore I will resigne
Into thine hand, till thou list soccour,
To helpe my making both florish and flour,
Than should I shew in loue how I brend,
In songs making, thy name to commend.
For if I coud before thine excellence
Singen in loue I would what I fele,
And euer standen lady in thy presence,
To shew in open how I loue, you wele,

And sith although your herte be made of stele,
To you withouten any disceueraunce,
J'ay en vous toute ma fiance.

Where might I loue euer better beset,
Than in this lilly liking to behold

That lace of loue, the bond so well thou knit,
That I may see thee or mine herte cold,
And or I passe out of my daies old,
Tofore singing euermore vtterly,
Your eyen two wol slea me sodainly.

For loue I langour, blissed be soch sicknes,
Sith it is for you my hertily suffisaunce,
I can not els say in my distresse,

So faire one hath mine herte in gouernance,
And after that I begin on esperaunce,
With feble entune, though it thine herte perce,
Yet for thy sake this letter I do reherce.

God wote on musike I can not, but I gesse
Alas why so, that I might say or sing,
So loue I you mine own souerain maistresse,
And euer shall without departing,
Mirrour of beauty, for you out should I ring
In remembraunce eke of your eyen clere,
Thus fer from you my souerain lady dere,

So would God your loue would me slo,

Sith for your sake I sing day by day,
Herte why nilt thou breake atwo,
Sith with my lady dwell I ne may,
Thus many a roundell and many a virelay,
In fresh English, whan I me laiser find,
I do record, on you to haue mind.

Now lady mine, sith I you loue and drede,
And you vnchaunged euer find in o degree,
Whose grace ne may fly fro your womanhede,
Disdaineth not for to remember on me,
Mine herte bleedeth for I may not you see,
And sith ye wote my meaning desirous,
Plores pour moy s'il vous plaist amoureus.

What maruaile is though I in paine be,
I am departed from you my soueraine,
Fortune alas, dont vient la destenie,
That in no wise I can ne may attaine
To see the beauty of your eyen twain,
Wherefore I say, for tristesse doth me grame,
Tant me fait mal departir de ma dame.

Why nere my wissing brought to such esploit,
That I might say for joy of your presence,
Or a mon cœur ce que voulloit,

Or a mon cœur, the highest excellence

That euer had wight, and sith mine aduertence
Is in you, reweth on my paines smert,
I am so sore wounded to the herte.

To liue well mery two louers were yfere,
So may I say withouten any blame,
If any man too wild were,

I coud him teach for to be tame,

Let him go loue, and see where it be game,
For I am bridled vnto sobernesse,

For her that is of woman cheef princesse.

But euer whan thought my herte shuld enbrace,
Than vnto me is best remedy,

Whan I look on your goodly fresh face,
So merry a mirrour coud I neuer espy,
And if I coud, I would it magnifie,
For neuer none was so faire ifound,
To reken hem all, and also Rosamound.

And finally, with mouth and will present
Of double eye without repentaunce,
Mine herte I yeue you lady in this entent,
That ye shall holly therof haue gouernaunce,
Taking my leaue with hertes obeysaunce,
(Salve regina) singing last of all,

To be our helpe whan we to thee call.

All our loue is but idlenesse,

Saue your loue alone, who might thereto attaine,
Who so woll haue a name of gentillesse,
I counsaile him in loue that he not faine,
Thou sweet lady, refute in euery paine,
Whose mercy most to me auaileth,
To gie by grace, whan that fortune faileth.
Nought may be told withouten any fable,
Your high renome, your womanly beaute,
Your gouernaunce to all worship able,
Putteth euery herte in ease in his degree,
O violet, O floure desiree,
Sith I am for you so amerous,
Estreignes moy de cœur joyeus.

With feruent herte my brest bath brost on fire,
L'ardant espoer en mon cœur point est mort,
D'auoir l'amour de celle que je desire,

I meane you sweet most pleasaunt of port,
Et je say bien que ce n'est pas mon tort,
That for you sing, so as I may for mone
For your departing, alone I liue alone.

Though I might, I would none other chese,
In your seruice I would been founden sadde,
Therefore I loue no labour that ye lese,
Whan in longing forest ye be stadde,
Look vp you louers, and be right gladde
Ayenst saint Ualentines day,

For haue chese that neuer forsake I may.

EXPLICIT.

JOHN GOWER UNTO THE NOBLE KING
HENRY THE FOURTH.

O NOBLE Worthy king Henry the ferthe,
In whom the gladde fortune is befall,
The people to gouern here vpon earthe,
God hath thee chosen in comfort of vs all,
The worship of this land, which was doun fall,
Now stant vpright through grace of thy goodnesse,
Which euery man is holde for to blesse.

The high God of his justice alone,
The right which longeth to thy regaly,
Declared hath to stand in thy persone,
And more than God may no man justifie,
Thy title is know vpon thine auncestrie,
The lands folke bath eke thy right affirmed,
So stant thy reign, of God and man confirmed.

There is no man may say in otherwise,
That God himself ne hath the right declared,
Whereof the land is bound to thy seruice,
Which for defaut of helpe hath long cared,
But now there is no mans herte spared,
To loue and serue, and worch thy pleasaunce,
And all this is through Gods purueiaunce.

In all thing which is of God begonne,
There followeth grace, if it be well gouerned,
Thus tellen they which old books conne,
Wherof my lord I wote well thou art lerned,
Ask of thy God, so shalt thou not be warned
Of no request, which is reasonable,
For God vnto the good is fauourable.

King Salomon, which had at his asking,
Of God what thing him was leuest craue,
He chase wisdome vnto gouerning
Of Gods folke, the which he would saue,
And as he chase, it fill him for to haue,
For through his wit while that his reign last,
He gate him peace and rest into his last.

But Alexander, as telleth his story,
Unto the God besought in other way,
Of all the world to win the victory,
So that vnder his swerd it might obay,
In warre he had all that he would pray,
The mighty God bebight him that behest
The world wanne, and had it of conquest.

But though it fill at thilke time so

That Alexander his asking hath atcheued,
This sinful worlde was all Painem tho,
Was none which hath that high God beleued,
No wonder was though thilk world was greued,
Though a tirant his purpose might win,
All was vengeaunce and infortune of sin.

But now the faith of Christ is come a place
Among the princes in this yearth here,
It sitte hem well to do pity and grace,
But yet it must be tempored in manere,
For they finden cause in the mattere
Upon the point, what afterward betide,
The law of right shall not be laid aside.

So may a king of warre the voyage,
Ordaine and take, as he thereto is hold,
To claime and ask his rightful heritage
In all places where it is withhold,
But otherwise if God himself wold,
Affirme loue and peace between the kings,
Peace is the best aboue all carthly things.

Good is to eschew war, and nathelees,
A king may make war vpon his right,
For of battaile the final end is pees,
Thus stant the law, that a worthy knight
Upon his trouth may go to the fight,
But if so were that he might chese,

Better is the peace, of which may no man lese.

To stere peace ought euerich on liue,
First for to sette his leige lord in rest,
And eke these other men that they ne striue,
For so this land may stand at best,
What king that would be the worthiest,
The more he might our deadly war cease,
The more he should his worthinesse increase.

Peace is the chiefe of all the worlds welth,
And to the Heauen it leadeth eke the way,
Peace is of soule and life the mannes health,
Of pestilence, and doth the war away,
My liege lord take heed of that I say,
If war may be left, take peace on hand,
Which may not be without Goddes sand.
With peace staut euery creature in rest,
Without peace there may no life be glad,
Aboue all other good peace is the best,
Peace hath himself whan werre is al bestad,
The peace is safe, the warre is euer drad,
Peace is of all charity the kay,
Which hath the life and soule for to way.

My liege lord, if that thee list to seech
The soth ensamples what the war hath wrought
Thou shalt well here of wise mennes speech,
That deadly warre turneth into nought,
For if these old books be well ysought,
There might thou se what thing the war hath do,
Both of conquest and conquerour also.

For vain honour, or for the worlds good,
They that whilome the strong wars made,
Wher be they now, bethink well in thy mood,
The day is gone the night is derke and fade,
Hir cruelty which made hem than glade,
They sorrowen now, and yet haue naught the more
The blood is shad, which no man may restore.

Where needeth most, behoueth most to looke,
My lord, how so thy wars be without,
Of time passed, who that heed tooke,
Good were at home to see right well about,
For euermore, the worst is for to dout,
But if thou mightest parfite peace attaine,
There should be no cause for to plaine.

About a king good counsaile is to preise,
Aboue all other things most vailable,
But yet a king within himself shall peise,
And seene the things that be reasonable,
And there upon he shall his wits stable,
Among the men to set peace in euin,
For loue of him which is the king of Heuin

A, well is him that shed neuer blood,
But if it were in cause of rightwisenesse,
For if a king the peril vnderstood,
What is to slee the people, than I gesse,
The deadly warres and the heauinesse,
Whereof peace distourbed is full oft,
Should at some time cease and wexe soft.

O king, fulfilled of grace and knighthode,
Remember vpon this point for Christs sake,
If peace be profered vnto thy manhode,
Thine honour saue, let it not be forsake,
Though thou the wars darst well vndertake,
After reason yet temper thy courage,
For like to peace there none auauntage.
My worthy lord, think well how so befall
Of thilke lore as holy books saine,
Christ is the head, and we be members all,
As well the subject as the soueraigne,
So sitte it well, that charity be plaine,
Which vnto God himself most accordetb,
So as the lore of Christs word recordeth.

In the old law or Christ himselfe was bore,
Among the ten commaundements I rede,
How that manslaughter should be forbore,
Such was the will that time of the godhede,
But afterward whan Christ toke his manhede
Peace was the first thing he let do cry
Ayenst the worlds rancour and enuy.

And or Christ went out of this earth here,
And stighed to heuin, he made his testament,
Where he bequeath to his disciples there,
And yaue his peace, which is the foundement
Of charity, without whose assent

The worlds peace may neuer well be tried,
Ne loue kept, ne law iustified.

The lewes with the painims hadden werre,
But they among hemself stode euer in peace,
Why should than our peace stand out of erre,
Which Christ hath chose vnto his own encrese,
For Christ is more than was Moyses,
And Christ hath set the parfite of the law,
The which should in no wise be withdraw.

To yeue vs peace, was cause why Christ dide,
Without peace, may nothing stond auailed,
But now a man may see on euery side
How Christs faith is euery day assailed,
With painims destroyed and so batailed,
That for defaut of helpe and of defence,
Unneth hath Christ his due reuerence.

The right faith to keepe of holy church,
The first point is named of knighthode,
And euery man is hold for to worch
Upon the point that stant to his manhode:
But now alas, the fame is spred so brode,
That euery man this thing complainetb,
And yet is there no man that help ordaineth.

The worlds cause is waited ouer all,
There be the warres ready to the full,
But Christs own cause in speciall,
There ben the swerds and the speares dull,
And with the sentence of the popes bull,
As for to done the folke paine obay,
The church is tourned all another way.

It is wonder aboue any mans wit,
Without war how Christs faith was won,
And we that be vpon this earth yet,
Ne keepe it nat as it was first begon,
To euery creature vnder the Sonne
Christ bad hemselfe that we should preach,
And to the folke his euangely teach.

More light it is to keep than to make,
But that we founden made tofore hond,
We keepe not, but let it lightly slake,
The peace of Christ hath al to broke his bond,
We rest our selfe, and suffren euery lond
To slee each other, as thing vndefended,
So stant the war, and peace is not amended.

But though the head of holy church aboue
Ne do not all his hole businesse,
Among the people to set peace and loue,
These kings onghten of hir rightwisenesse
Hir owne cause among hemselfe redresse,
Tho Peters ship as now hath lost his stere,
It lith in hem the barge for to stere.

If holy church after the duty
Of Christs word ne be nat all auised
To make peace, accord, and vnity
Among the kings that be now deuised,
Yet natheles the law stant assised
Of mans wit to be so reasonable,
Without that to stand himselfe stable.

Of holy church we ben children all,
And euery child is hold for to bow
Unto the mother, how that ever it fall,
Or els he must reason disallow,

And for that cause a knight shall first auow
The right of holy church to defend,
That no man shall the priuiledge offend.

Thus were it good to set all in euin
The worlds princes and the prelates both,
For loue of him wich is the king of Heuin,
And if men should algate wexen wroth,
The sarazins, which vnto Christ ben loth,
Let men be armed ayenst hem to fight,
So may the knight his deed of armes right.

Upon iii. points stant Christs peace oppressed,
First holy church in her selfe deuided,
Which ought of reason first to be redressed,
But yet so high a cause is not decided,
And thus whan humble patience is prided,
The remenaunt which that they should rule,
No wonder is though it stand out of rule.

Of that the head is sicke, the limmes aken,
These reigns that to Christs peace belongen,
For worlds good these deadly wars maken,
Which helpelesse, as in balaunce hongen,
The head aboue hem hath nat vnderfongen
To set peace but euery mau sleeth other,
And in this wise hath charity no brother.

The two defauts that bringen in the third,
Of miscreants that seene how we debate,
Between the two, they fallen in amid,
Where now all day they find an open gate,
Lo thus the deadly warre stant algate,
But euer I hope of king Henries grace,
That he it is which shall the peace embrace.

My worthy noble prince and king annoint,
Whom God hath of his grace so preserued,
Behold and see the world vpon this point,
As for thy part, that Christs peace be serued,
So shall thy high mede be deserued,
To hini which all shall quite at last,
For this life here may no while last.

See Alexander, Hector, and Iulius,
See Machabeus, Dauid, and Iosue,
See Charlemaine, Godefray, and Arthus,
Fulfilled of warre and of mortality,
Hir fame abitte, but all is vanity,

For death, which hath the warres vnder foot,
Hath made an end, of which there is no boot.

So many a man the soth wete and know,
That peace is good for euery king to haue,
The fortune of the warre is euer vnknow,
But where peace is, there is the marches saue,
That now is vp, to morrow is vnder graue,
The mighty God hath all grace in hand,
Without him men may not long stand.