The Book of Duchess


“The Book of Duchess” -Chaucer I loked forth, for I was waked With smale foules a gret hepe, That had affrayed me out of slepe Through noyse and swetnesse of hir song; And, as me mette, they sate among, Upon my chambre-roof withoute, Upon the tyles, al a-boute, And songen, everich in his wise, The moste solempne servyse By note, that ever man, I trowe, Had herd; for som of hem song lowe, Som hye, and al of oon acorde. To telle shortly, at oo worde, Was never y-herd so swete a steven, But hit had be a thing of heven; -- So mery a soun, so swete entunes, That certes, for the toune of Tewnes, I nolde but I had herd hem singe, For al my chambre gan to ringe Through singing of hir armonye. For instrument nor melodye Was nowher herd yet half so swete, Nor of acorde half so mete; For ther was noon of hem that feyned To singe, for ech of hem him peyned To finde out mery crafty notes; They ne spared not hir throtes.