chaucer - good counsel of chaucer - ghizela rowe lyrics
flee from the press, and dwell with soothfastness;
suffice thee thy good, though it be small;
for h**rd hath hate, and climbing tickleness
press hath envy, and weal is blent o’er all
savour no more than thee behove shall;
read well thyself, that other folk canst read;
and truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread
paine thee not each crooked to redress
in trust of her that turneth as a ball;
great rest standeth in little business:
beware also to spurn against a nail;
strive not as doth a crocke with a wall;
deeme thysеlf that deemest others’ deed
and truth thee shall delivеr, it is no dread
what thee is sent, receive in buxomness;
the wrestling of this world asketh a fall;
here is no home, here is but wilderness
forth, pilgrim! forthe beast, out of thy stall!
look up on high, and thank thy god of all!
weive thy l*st, and let thy ghost thee lead
and truth thee shall deliver, it is no dread
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