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Quotes about thomas hardy

Seamus Heaney

I suppose you could say my father's world was Thomas Hardy and my mother's D.H. Lawrence.

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Geoffrey Chaucer

The Canterbury Tales

PROLOGUE

Here bygynneth the Book of the tales of Caunterbury.

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;

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Geoffrey Chaucer

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

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Geoffrey Chaucer

The Monk's Tale

WHEN ended was my tale of Melibee,
And of Prudence and her benignity,
Our Hoste said, 'As I am faithful man,
And by the precious corpus Madrian,
I had lever* than a barrel of ale, *rather
That goode lefe* my wife had heard this tale; *dear
For she is no thing of such patience
As was this Meliboeus' wife Prudence.
By Godde's bones! when I beat my knaves
She bringeth me the greate clubbed staves,
And crieth, 'Slay the dogges every one,
And break of them both back and ev'ry bone.'
And if that any neighebour of mine
Will not in church unto my wife incline,
Or be so hardy to her to trespace,* *offend
When she comes home she rampeth* in my face, *springs
And crieth, 'False coward, wreak* thy wife *avenge
By corpus Domini, I will have thy knife,
And thou shalt have my distaff, and go spin.'
From day till night right thus she will begin.

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Polyhymnia

[Polyhymnia: Describing, The honourable Triumph at Tylt,
before her Maiestie, on the 17. of Nouember, last past,
being the first day of the three and thirtith yeare of
her Highnesse raigne. With Sir Henrie Lea, his resignation
of honour at Tylt, to her Maiestie, and receiued by the right
honourable, the Earle of Cumberland.]

[Polyhimnia. Entituled, with all dutie to the Right
Honourable, Lord Compton of Compton.]


Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,
Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,
Elizabeth great Empresse of the world,
Britanias Atlas, Star of Englands globe,
That swaies the massie scepter of her land,
And holdes the royall raynes of Albion:
Began the gladsome sunnie day to shine,
That drawes in length date of her golden raigne:
And thirtie three shee numbreth in her throne:

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I am the one (Terzanelle)

I am the one to whom animals flock,
dogs, cats and every tame dove
as if bewitched by the midnight clock,

coming to me as if I am, the one that they love
without getting attention from me,
dogs, cats and every tame dove

has something that they see
looking past human sense
without getting attention from me,

coming sincerely without pretence.
I am the one with love in my heart
looking past human sense

always trying to be me, without playing a part
trying to learn from the creation of the almighty God
I am the one with love in my heart,

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Proud Songsters (Terzanelle)

Birds sing while the day is dying
black-collard barbets, finches and doves in pairs
with sincere sweet voices crying,

in beauty raising my arm hairs,
acknowledging the beginning of spring
black-collard barbets finches, and doves in pairs

in profound beauty sing
before all other beings knowing,
acknowledging the beginning of spring

as if the winter at last is going,
without any further resistance
before all other beings knowing,

smelling the rain in the distance
singing to their hearts content, bright and clear
without any further resistance,

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The voice

Woman whom I loved once,
now you call me, tell me
that you have changed through the years.

Can it really be you, you who were really lovely?
In the picture, that I have in my head
with an angelic smile, big green eyes with brown spots
you look even more pretty than before?

Or is it only in my mind that I still see you
or a nightly dream that you are in
or a apparition walking in my garden
in the early morning fog?

l’Envoi
Thus I stumble forward
as if in a dream, seeing the morning glories opening
and everything looks so much like spring
and the early morning air brings your scent to me
and somehow I know that the voice that I hear

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When I once knew

When I once knew
a girl sitting next to me in the pew
(as my girlfriend and later my wife)
I thought that life was great
and I saw her smile
every now and then
and in a while she sang
sweet as a bird

but destiny and life separated us
and the years rolled on
where we live a thousand miles apart
and when we met again
we were still the same,
but different and more mature
and then maybe sure
about were our different careers
were leading us

l’Envoi

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The Brus Book 18

[Edward Bruce marches toward Dundalk; he debates whether to fight]

Bot he that rest anoyit ay
And wald in travaill be alway,
A day forouth thar aryving
That war send till him fra the king,
5 He tuk his way southwart to far
Magre thaim all that with him war,
For he had nocht than in that land
Of all men I trow twa thousand,
Outane the kingis off Irchery
10 That in gret routis raid him by.
Towart Dundalk he tuk the way,
And quhen Richard of Clar hard say
That he come with sa few menye
All that he mycht assemblit he
15 Off all Irland off armyt men,
Sua that he had thar with him then
Off trappyt hors twenty thousand
But thai that war on fute gangand,

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