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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395635" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Complaint of Chaucer to his Purse</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To yow, my purse, and to noon other wight <br>Complayne I, for ye be my lady dere! <br>I am so sory, now that ye been lyght; <br>For certes, but ye make me hevy chere, <br>Me were as leef be layd upon my bere; <br>For which unto your mercy thus I crye: <br>Beth hevy ageyn, or elles mot I dye! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now voucheth sauf this day, or yt be nyght, <br>That I of yow the blisful soun may here, <br>Or see your colour lyk the sonne bryght, <br>That of yelownesse hadde never pere. <br>Ye be my lyf, ye be myn hertes stere, <br>Quene of comfort and of good companye: <br>Beth hevy ageyn, or elles moote I dye! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now purse, that ben to me my lyves lyght <br>And saveour, as doun in this world here, <br>Out of this toune helpe me thurgh your myght, <br>Syn that ye wole nat ben my tresorere; <br>For I am shave as nye as any frere. <br>But yet I pray unto your curtesye: <br>Beth hevy agen, or elles moote I dye! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lenvoy de Chaucer <br>O conquerour of Brutes Albyon, <br>Which that by lyne and free eleccion <br>Been verray kyng, this song to yow I sende; <br>And ye, that mowen alle oure harmes amende, <br>Have mynde upon my supplicacion!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Geoffrey+Chaucer">Geoffrey Chaucer</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395635" data-title="The Complaint of Chaucer to his Purse de Geoffrey Chaucer" data-description="To yow, my purse, and to noon other wight 
Complayne I, for ye be my lady dere! 
I am so sory, now that ye been lyght; 
For certes, but ye make me hevy chere, 
Me were as leef be layd upon my bere; 
For which unto your mercy thus I crye: 
Beth hev..."></div>
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