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Updated: June 11, 2025
But sore weep she if oon of hem were deed, Or if men smoot it with a yerde smerte: And al was conscience and tendre herte Ful semely hir wimpel pinched was: Hir nose tretys; her eyen greye as glas; Hir mouth ful smal, and ther-to softe and reed; But sikerly she hadde a fair foreheed; It was almost a spanne brood, I trowe; For, hardily, she was nat undergrowe.
But the fact is incontestable that my talents are not appreciated at their right value; and I must be content with such slender encouragement as I receive. In vain do I purchase choice brands of cigars and cigarettes, and load my side-table with the best Scotch whisky. Not eyen with that solace will the vagrant undergraduate consent to be douched under the stream of my suggestive conversation.
And departeth the heart from the instruments of feeling, and breedeth foamy humours, and beclippeth aside half the substance of the heart. And when the lungs be grieved by any occasion, it speedeth to death- ward. The liver hath name, for fire hath place therein, that passeth up anon to the brain, and cometh thence to the eyen, and to the other wits and limbs.
It was no counterfeited thing; It was her owne pure looking; So the goddess, dame Nature, Had made them open by measure And close; for were she never so glad, Not foolishly her looks were spread, Nor wildely, though that she play'd; But ever, methought, her eyen said: "By God, my wrath is all forgiven."
So before the wise-heart Hogni shrank the champions of the East As his great voice shook the timbers in the hall of Atli's feast, There he smote and beheld not the smitten, and by nought were his edges stopped; He smote and the dead were thrust from him; a hand with its shield he lopped; There met him Atli's marshal, and his arm at the shoulder he shred; Three swords were upreared against him of the best of the kin of the dead; And he struck off a head to the rightward, and his sword through a throat he thrust, But the third stroke fell on his helm-crest, and he stooped to the ruddy dust, And uprose as the ancient Giant, and both his hands were wet: Red then was the world to his eyen, as his hand to the labour he set; Swords shook and fell in his pathway, huge bodies leapt and fell; Harsh grided shield and war-helm like the tempest-smitten bell, And the war-cries ran together, and no man his brother knew, And the dead men loaded the living, as he went the war-wood through; And man 'gainst man was huddled, till no sword rose to smite, And clear stood the glorious Hogni in an island of the fight, And there ran a river of death 'twixt the Niblung and his foes, And therefrom the terror of men and the wrath of the Gods arose."
With those words Wat Tyler cast his eyen on a squire that was there with the king bearing the king's sword, and Wat Tyler hated greatly the same squire, for the same squire had displeased him before for words between them. 'What, said Tyler, 'art thou there?
In the Canterbury Tales he uses lines of ten syllables and five accents each, and the lines run in couplets: His eyen twinkled in his heed aright As doon the sterres in the frosty night. The same musical measure, arranged in seven-line stanzas, but with a different rime, called the Rime Royal, is found in its most perfect form in Troilus.
"For myself had I given To that great king Who sat amid gold On the back of Grani; Nought were his eyes Like to your eyen, Nor in any wise Went his visage with yours; Though ye might deem you Due kings of men. "One I loved, One, and none other, The gold-decked may Had no doubtful mind; Thereof shall Atli Wot full surely, When he getteth to know I am gone to the dead.
Because if it is, I can't " "It wouldn't," interrupted Ralph. "On any bill over a dollar and a quarter, I always throw in a kitten. Didn't you know that?" "No," answered Araminta, with a happy little laugh. How kind he was, eyen though he was a man! Perhaps, if he knew how wicked her mother had been, he would not be so kind to her. The stern Puritan conscience rose up and demanded explanation.
Then said Berluse: Sir knight, I know you better than you ween, for ye are King Mark that slew my father afore mine own eyen; and me had ye slain had I not escaped into a wood; but wit ye well, for the love of my lord of this castle I will neither hurt you nor harm you, nor none of your fellowship.
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