A BESTIARY: THE WHALE by ANONYMOUS

THE Whale is a fish, I wis,
None greater in sea there is,
So that thou sure would'st say,
Did'st thou see it float alway,
That the same must an island be,
Girdled about by the sea.
That fish is so huge, the tide
That it hungers it gapeth wide,
From his throat comes a scent so fair
Earth hath naught may therewith compare,
Other fishes to him draw nigh,
For it pleaseth them mightily.
Thus into his mouth they swim,
For they know not the guile of him;
The whale shuts his jaws straightway,
Sucks them in without more delay,
'T is the small fish he doth deceive,
The greater, he needs must leave.
He dwells in the deep sea ground,
And liveth there hale and sound,
Until it shall chance that there be
A storm that stirs up the sea.
When summer and winter strive,
There may he no longer thrive;
So troubled the sea, its ground,
He may not abide that stound,
But doth rise up, and lieth still
While the weather it is so ill.
The sailors, in tempest's strife,
Who dread death, and are fain for life,
Looking round them, this fish they see,
And they deem it an isle to be,
Then joy in their hearts they know,
And toward it they swiftly row,
Their ship do they fasten there
And up on its back they fare,
With tinder and steel, and stone,
They make them a fire anon,
They warm them, and eat and drink --
The Whale, feeling the fire, doth sink,
And soon doth he dive to the ground,
And all, without wound, are drowned.

@3Significatio@1

The Devil is mighty in wile,
(So witches have craft and guile,)
He maketh men hunger and thirst
With sinful desires accurst,
And draweth to him with his breath
(Whoso follows him, findeth death --)
They who love but little the law;
The great he may never draw,
The great, those who true have been
In body and soul, I mean.
He who lists to the Devil's lore
At long last he shall rue it sore;
He who fastens his hope on him
Must him follow to Hell's depths dim.

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