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The self is just not a worthy enough vehicle to worship.

quote by Peter Coyote
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hexagram

Paint the streets in white!
Death is the standard
Breach for a complex prize!
I think it's sweet of you
And your parents are proud...
But I would expect it from anyone
Now to protect life's indigenous sound!
Worship! Play, Play x 3
Worship! Play! Worship! Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play x 3
Worship! Play! Worship! Worship!
How the streets they swell!
While the animals make their way through the crowds!
If you keep listening you can hear it for miles...
God, I trust everyone quicker with every faint smile!
Worship! Play, Play x 4
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play x 4
Worship! Worship!
Worship! Play, Play
Worship! Worship! Worship!
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and I know you're proud
And the car bomb hits quick click, faint smile!
It's the same sound... it's the same, same... sound....
And the crowd goes wild!
And the camera makes you seasick!
God it's so sweet of you and you know I'm proud
And the car bomb tick ticks with the same sound!
Its the same sound! With the same sound...
Hexagram...

song performed by Deftones
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Are Worthy Of My Praise

I will worship with all of my heart
And I will praise you with all of my strength
And I will seek you all of my days
And I will follow, follow all of your ways.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise
I will bow down, and hail you as King
And I will serve you, I'll give you everything
And I will lift up my eyes to your throne
And I will trust you, I will trust you alone.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise.
--- Instrumental ---
I will bow down and hail you as King
And I will serve you, I'll give you everything
And I will lift up my eyes to your throne
And I will trust you, I will trust you alone.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise.
I will give you all my worship
I will give you all my praise
You alone I long to worship
You alone are worthy of my praise...
--- Instrumental to fade ---

song performed by Randy Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Praise Your Holy Name

For all youve done -- Thank you
With my hands, I applaud the maker of creation, Holy Father
With my mouth, I extol, shouts of jubilation, Hallelujah
(You satisfy my hearts desire) With many good things,
I gotta thank ya
(You redeemed my very life) To you my heart sings
(With everything, I lift you up high)
(Let everything within praise your holy name )
With everything I,
(With everything, I lift you up high)
Lift you up Lord,Everything within me
(Let everything within praise Your holy name)
With the dance, I will praise, rejoicing in my Savior
Oh Lord, Youve been good
For Your everlasting love and unmerited favor,
Grace and mercy to me
(The Glory of Your majesty), even the skies have to display,
Yeah, yeah
(Day and night, and night and day) Youre worthy of praise
(With everything, I lift you up high)
I lift you, oh Lord I thank you, I gotta praise your Holy Name
(with everything I lift you up high)
I lift you Lord, so wonderful, I gotta, (praise your name)
Everything I do I wanna do it all for you
Let me be calm when Im there, praising your holy name
I wanna lift you up so high for the world to see
(Bridge)
I lift my hands, my hands I raise
To give You glory, to give You praise
I wanna live, so I can give all of my service unto You
Because Youre worthy Oh Lord your worthy
Oh yes, Youre worthy, worthy of the praise,
And the honor and the glory
And all majesty belongs to you.
With everything I do, everywhere I go,
I gotta tell everybody about your goodness,
About your goodness, about your goodness
Oh yeah, Yeah, youve been good, Lord,
Youve been good Lord, Youve been good Lord
You've been good Oh
Better to me, better to me, better to me than I could ever
be to myself
Youve been good Lord, thats why I thank you, thats why I praise ya
Hey
My hands are lifted, my voice is raised, to give you glory,
to give you praise
Huh, huh, praise ya,Huh, huh, praise ya
Oh I praise ya, Oh I praise ya
Oh, only you Lord, Only You Lord
Only you are worthy of the glory

[...] Read more

song performed by Yolanda Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Are Holy

You are holy (you are holy)
You are mighty (you are mighty)
You are worthy (you are worthy)
Worthy of praise (worthy of praise)
I will follow (I will follow)
I will listen (I will listen)
I will love you (I will love You)
All of my days (all of my days)
Chorus:
I will sing to
And worship
The King who is worthy
I will love and adore Him
And I will bow down before Him
And I will sing to and worship the King who is worthy
And I will love and adore him
And I will bow down before Him
You're my prince of peace
And I will live my life for You
(Girls behind guys:)
You are lord of lords
You are king of kinds
You are mighty God
Lord of everything
You are Emmanuel
Lord of great I am
Noble prince of peace
Who is the lamb
You are the saving god
You are my saving grace
You will reign forever
You are ancient and great
You are alpha, omega, beginning and end
You are my savior, messiah, redeemer, and friend
(Both:)
You are my prince of peace and I will live my life for you.
You are holy (you are holy)
You are mighty (you are mighty)
You are worthy (you are worthy)
Worthy of praise (worthy of praise)
I will follow (I will follow)
I will listen (I will listen)
I will love you (I will love You)
All of my days (all of my days)
Chorus X2

song performed by Michael W. Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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How To Drive?

Wait, wait, wait,
let yourself wait,
be ready to learn driving,
vehicle up to date.
darling vehicle up to date.

Always start car o' expert with care.
Otherwise, would find some thing,
Uneasy, unfair.
keep clutch in hand,
never accident,
pass away you very slowly,
until it may faint.
hate, hate, hate,
fast driving hate.
be ready to learn driving,
vehicle up to date.
Vehicle:
see this one is gate kaveri,
this one kutubminar.
see every thing nude darling,
while driving car.

Vehicle: I want enjoy heaven,
carry on so fast,
would that! we were queen and king,
forever no last.
haste, haste, haste,
make darling, haste.
if you get down so sooner,
who will compensate.

I need a fast driver,
don't drive me slow.
take energy-pills,
darling, your energy low!
keep mind my word,
I'm too forward,
until you are not trained,
I won't like you wait.
hate, hate, I hate,
I don't like you wait,
be ready to learn driving,
Vehicle up to date.

poem by Rani Madhubala
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Church Of Women

A lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Church of women is made out of milk
Which their love turns to butter -er -er
Church of women will have you give praise
With a laugh, bark and stutter -er -er
Like us men like us men they are nothing like us men
Men have gargoyles round their hearts
Im on my knees but dancing
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Church of women is making donations of loving and giving -ing -ing
Church of women performing that miracle raising the living -ing -ing
Like us men like us men will they ever like us men?
Men have thorns around their minds
Im on my mountain preaching
Want to worship at the church of women
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Lie for a lie, but a truth for the truth
Give em back their house: the walls, the doors, the floors and roof
And stop tryin to diet on the wafers and wine and submit were in control
Now lets put things right
Lets multiply the loves and kisses
til we have enough to love and eat forever
Want to worship at the church of women
I want to worship at the church of women now
Breathe em in until my head goes spinning around
Ill breathe em in until my head goes spinning round
Want to worship at the church
Let me worship at the church of women
Want to worship at the church of women
(repeat x3 and fade)

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Worship Him

Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Christ, our Lord
(repeat)
All the earth should praise Him
Let us bow down before Him
Let us enter into,His gates with thanksgiving
Come before His courts with praise
Lets us honor and adore Him
Lets us exalt Him for His goodness
For His love and kindness
And for His tender mercy
I will,I will,I will,I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship Christ
I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship you
I adore your name
Lord you're worthy
I worship Christ, the Lord

song performed by Yolanda Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let Us Worship Him

Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Christ our Saviour
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Him
Let us worship Christ, our Lord
(repeat)
All the earth should praise Him
Let us bow down before Him
Let us enter into,His gates with thanksgiving
Come before His courts with praise
Lets us honor and adore Him
Lets us exalt Him for His goodness
For His love and kindness
And for His tender mercy
I will,I will,I will,I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship Christ
I will worship Christ the Lord
I will worship you
I adore your name
Lord you're worthy
I worship Christ, the Lord

song performed by Yolanda Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Libelle of Englyshe Polycye

Here beginneth the Prologe of the processe of the Libelle of Englyshe polycye, exhortynge alle Englande to kepe the see enviroun and namelye the narowe see, shewynge whate profete commeth thereof and also whate worshype and salvacione to Englande and to alle Englyshe menne.

The trewe processe of Englysh polycye
Of utterwarde to kepe thys regne in rest
Of oure England, that no man may denye
Ner say of soth but it is one the best,
Is thys, as who seith, south, north, est and west
Cheryshe marchandyse, kepe thamyralte,
That we bee maysteres of the narowe see.

For Sigesmonde the grete Emperoure,
Whyche yet regneth, whan he was in this londe
Wyth kynge Herry the vte, prince of honoure,
Here moche glorye, as hym thought, he founde,
A myghty londe, whyche hadde take on honde
To werre in Fraunce and make mortalite,
And ever well kept rounde aboute the see.

And to the kynge thus he seyde, 'My brothere',
Whan he perceyved too townes, Calys and Dovere,
'Of alle youre townes to chese of one and other
To kepe the see and sone for to come overe,
To werre oughtwardes and youre regne to recovere,
Kepe these too townes sure to youre mageste
As youre tweyne eyne to kepe the narowe see'.

For if this see be kepte in tyme of werre,
Who cane here passe withought daunger and woo?
Who may eschape, who may myschef dyfferre?
What marchaundy may forby be agoo?
For nedes hem muste take truse every foo,
Flaundres and Spayne and othere, trust to me,
Or ellis hyndered alle for thys narowe see.

Therfore I caste me by a lytell wrytinge
To shewe att eye thys conclusione,
For concyens and for myne acquytynge
Ayenst God, and ageyne abusyon
And cowardyse and to oure enmyes confusione;
For iiij. thynges oure noble sheueth to me,
Kyng, shype and swerde and pouer of the see.

Where bene oure shippes, where bene oure swerdes become?
Owre enmyes bid for the shippe sette a shepe.
Allas, oure reule halteth, hit is benome.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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The Canterbury Tales; Prologue

Whan that Aprille, with hise shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flour;
Whan Zephirus eek with his swete breeth

Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halfe cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open eye-

So priketh hem Nature in hir corages-
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes
To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially, from every shires ende

Of Engelond, to Caunturbury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for the seke
That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke.
Bifil that in that seson, on a day,
In Southwerk at the Tabard as I lay,

Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage
To Caunterbury, with ful devout corage,
At nyght were come into that hostelrye
Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye
Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle

In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle,
That toward Caunterbury wolden ryde.
The chambres and the stables weren wyde,
And wel we weren esed atte beste;
And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste,

So hadde I spoken with hem everychon
That I was of hir felaweshipe anon,
And made forward erly for to ryse
To take our wey, ther as I yow devyse.
But nathelees, whil I have tyme and space,

Er that I ferther in this tale pace,
Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun
To telle yow al the condicioun
Of ech of hem, so as it semed me,
And whiche they weren, and of what degree,

And eek in what array that they were inne;
And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.

[...] Read more

poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Some People Worship

Some people worship the fiery sun
And some the crescent moon
Some people worship the stars above
But God I worship you

Some people worship dragons
And some hand carved statues
Some people worship the devil
But God I worship you

You created the heavens above
The earth with color of every hue
Then in your image you made man
God I worship you

Some people worship their president
And some their nation too
Some people worship themselves
But God I worship You!

© by Patricia Bankhead

poem by Patricia Bankhead
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Worship

Worshippers by God are sought, from the souls He has bought,
Every believer bought by Christ, to worship throughout their life;
The worship that God does seek, is more than just once a week,
It's far beyond a weekly throng, of believers lifting up their song.

Worship is not in part, but whole, all one's mind, body, and soul,
We're to worship in spirit and Truth, with active worship as proof,
Worshipfully seeking God's face, this, at any time and any place,
Truly lifting up our heart to Him, with worshipful intent not a whim.

We worship any time or hour, compelled by love and Holy power.
As we truly lift up our heart to God, anywhere on this earthly sod,
Lifting up Worship to The Lord, worthy to be praised and adored,
For all that The Lord God has done, in giving to us His Only Son.

Our worship is for every nation, a worshipful praise for Salvation,
God's Salvation, offered to us, through The Savior, Christ Jesus,
Worshipfully telling Salvation's story, all to the Lord God's Glory,
Thinking on Him, we truly rejoice, lifting up praise, with one voice.

Compared to God we're quite small, so we worship Christ in awe,
Bowing our hearts in humbleness, as we extol His Righteousness,
For he had left His Eternal Throne, to redeem us as His very Own,
So, we go on in worshipful praise, throughout all our earthly days.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Unbelievers (Chapter 109, Holy Koran)

I ask for refuge to Allah from Satan the exiled evildoer.
In the name of Allah the Kind and the Merciful Giver.

Say, O those who disbelieve
I don't worship that you worship
And you don't worship Him Whom I worship
And I won't worship that you worship
And you don't worship Him Whom I worship
Your religion is yours and our religion is ours to keep.

poem by Asif Andalib
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Ordinary Worship

Ordinary people in this life, are used for God through Jesus Christ,
To help other men come to see, what He has done for you and me.
First worship begins in our hearts; it’s where all true worship starts,
And true worship, you will find, is with all your heart, soul and mind.

We seek God in an ordinary way, and to The Lord we humbly pray,
We worship God in Spirit and Truth, with no need of a sign or proof,
Knowing that He’s a God of Love, we lift our heart to heaven above.
Not confined by just one steeple, we worship as a universal people.

Ordinary people from every nation, become as one in His Salvation,
Saved by One Extraordinary God, to serve Him wherever men trod.
We direct our worship to God above, expressing to Him all our love,
And thankfulness for His only Son, God’s gift unmatched by anyone.

Our worship is mediated by Christ, who died to give all men new life,
A life of service we devote to Him, who died as a sacrifice for our sin.
Worship is performed in The Spirit, and a blessing to all who hear it,
As believers we gather corporately, to praise The King of all Eternity.

With hearts bowing in submission, to The Lord’s Great Commission,
Filled with reverence and in awe, of Christ, The King and Lord of all,
Prepared for service and ministry, for The Lord and God of Eternity,
Are ordinary people saved by Christ, to be an extraordinary sacrifice.

(Copyright ©07/2006)

poem by Bob Gotti
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Tannhauser

The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.

[...] Read more

poem by Emma Lazarus
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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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You Are Holy (Prince Of Peace)

You are holy
You are mighty
You are worthy
Worthy of praise
I will follow
I will listen
I will love you
All of my days
Chorus:
I will sing to
And worship
The Kingdom is worthy
I will love and adore Him
And I will bow down before Him
And I will sing to and worship the Kingdom is worthy
And I will love and adore
And I will bow down before Him
Youre my prince of peace
And I will live my life for You
You are holy
You are mighty
You are worthy
Worthy of praise
I will follow
I will listen
I will love you
All of my days
Chorus X2
Bridge

song performed by Michael W. Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Worthy

you think you're not worthy
I'd have to say I agree
I'm not worthy of you
you're not worthy of me
which of us is deserving
look at the human race
the whole planet at arm's length
and we don't deserve this place

what good is a poker face
when you've got an open hand
I was supposed to be cool about this
yeah
I remember
cool was the plan
tried to keep it all under wraps
but the wraps kept going slack
I keep turning round
I keep coming back

give me a vertical
your horizontal line
I want to take each of them
bend them to divine
the world is too good for me
I am such a naughty girl
but when we're together
we're too good for this world

you think you're not worthy
I'd have to say I agree
I'm not worthy of you
you're not worthy of me
I'm not worthy of you
you aren't worthy of me...

song performed by Ani DiFranco from Not A Pretty Girl
Added by Lucian Velea
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Book Of The Duchesse

THE PROEM

I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
How that I live, for day ne nighte
I may nat slepe wel nigh noght,
I have so many an ydel thoght
Purely for defaute of slepe
That, by my trouthe, I take no kepe
Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,
Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.
Al is y-liche good to me --
Ioye or sorowe, wherso hyt be --
For I have feling in no-thinge,
But, as it were, a mased thing,
Alway in point to falle a-doun;
For sorwful imaginacioun
Is alway hoolly in my minde.
And wel ye wite, agaynes kynde
Hit were to liven in this wyse;
For nature wolde nat suffyse
To noon erthely creature
Not longe tyme to endure
Withoute slepe, and been in sorwe;
And I ne may, ne night ne morwe,
Slepe; and thus melancolye
And dreed I have for to dye,
Defaute of slepe and hevinesse
Hath sleyn my spirit of quiknesse,
That I have lost al lustihede.
Suche fantasies ben in myn hede
So I not what is best to do.
But men myght axe me, why soo
I may not slepe, and what me is?
But natheles, who aske this
Leseth his asking trewely.
My-selven can not telle why
The sooth; but trewely, as I gesse,
I holde hit be a siknesse
That I have suffred this eight yere,
And yet my bote is never the nere;
For ther is phisicien but oon,
That may me hele; but that is doon.
Passe we over until eft;
That wil not be, moot nede be left;
Our first matere is good to kepe.
So whan I saw I might not slepe,
Til now late, this other night,
Upon my bedde I sat upright
And bad oon reche me a book,
A romaunce, and he hit me took

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poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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