Geoffrey Chaucer

But Cristes loore, and his Apostles twelve
He taughte, but first he folowed it hymselfe.

But Cristes loore, and his Apostles twelve
He taughte, but first he folowed it hymselfe.

Thus with hir fader for a certeyn space
Dwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience,
That neither by read more

Thus with hir fader for a certeyn space
Dwelleth this flour of wyfly pacience,
That neither by hir wordes ne his face
Biforn the fold, ne eek in her absence,
Ne shewed she that hir was doon offence.

For oute of olde feldys, as men sey,
Comyth al this newe corn from yere to yere;
read more

For oute of olde feldys, as men sey,
Comyth al this newe corn from yere to yere;
And out of old bokis, in good fey,
Comyth al this newe science that men lere.

But every thyng which schyneth as the gold,
Nis nat gold, as that I have herd it told.

But every thyng which schyneth as the gold,
Nis nat gold, as that I have herd it told.

And yet he hadde "a thombe of gold" pardee.

And yet he hadde "a thombe of gold" pardee.