C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
TruthBallade of Good Counsel
By Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 13401400)
F
Suffice thine owen thing, though it be small;
For hoard hath hate, and climbing tickleness,
Press hath envy, and weal blent overall;
Savour no more than thee behove shall;
Rule well thyself, that other folk canst rede;
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.
In trust of her that turneth as a ball:
For great rest stands in little businéss;
Beware also to spurn against an awl;
Strive not as doth the crockè with the wall;
Dauntè thyself that dauntest otherès deed,
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.
The wrestling for this world asketh a fall:
Here is none home, here nis but wilderness:
Forth, pilgrim, forth! Forth, beast, out of thy stall!
Know thy country, look up, thank God of all;
Hold the high way, and let thy ghost thee lead,
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.
Unto the worldè; leave now to be thrall;
Cry him mercy, that of his high goodnéss
Made thee of nought, and in especìál
Draw unto him, and pray in generál
For thee, and eke for other, heavenly meed,
And truthè shall deliver, it is no drede.