Maxioms by Geoffrey Chaucer
Rose were sette of swete savour,
With many roses that thei bere.
Rose were sette of swete savour,
With many roses that thei bere.
The jelous swan, agens hire deth that syngith.
The jelous swan, agens hire deth that syngith.
The guilty think all talk is of themselves
The guilty think all talk is of themselves
For of Fortune's sharpe adversite,
The worste kynde of infortune is this,
A man to hav bent read more
For of Fortune's sharpe adversite,
The worste kynde of infortune is this,
A man to hav bent in prosperite,
And it remembren whan it passed is.
Mordre wol out, that see we day by day.
Mordre wol out, that see we day by day.
