Perle, plesaunte to prynces paye To clanly clos in golde so clere: Oute of oryent, I hardyly saye, Ne proved I never her precios pere. So rounde, so reken in uche araye, So smal, so smothe her sydes were, Quere-so-ever I jugged gemmes gaye, I sette hyr sengeley in synglere. Allas! I leste hyr in on erbere; Thurgh gresse to grounde hit fro me yot. I dewyne, fordolked of luf-daungere Of that pryvy perle wythouten spot. Sythen in that spote hit fro me sprange, Ofte haf I wayted, wyschande that wele, That wont was whyle devoyde my wrange And heven my happe and al my hele. That dos bot thrych my hert thrange, My breste in bale bot bolne and bele. Yet thoght me never so swete a sange As stylle stounde let to me stele. For sothe ther fleten to me fele, To thenke hir color so clad in clot. O moul, thou marres a myry juele, My privy perle wythouten spotte. That spot of spyses mot nedes sprede, Ther such ryches to rot is runne: Blomes blayke and blwe and rede Ther schynes ful schyr agayn the sunne. Flor and fryte may not be fede Ther hit doun drof in moldes dunne; For uch gresse mot grow of graynes dede -- No whete were elles to wones wonne. Of goud uche goude is ay bygonne: So semly a sede moght fayly not, That spryngande spyces up ne sponne Of that precios perle wythouten spotte. To that spot that I in speche expoun I entred in that erber grene, In Augoste in a hygh seysoun, Quen corne is corven wyth crokes kene. On huyle ther perle hit trendeled doun Schadowed this wortes ful schyre and schene -- Gilofre, gyngure and gromylyoun, And pyonys powdered ay bytwene. Yif hit was semly on to sene, A fayr reflayr yet fro hit flot. Ther wonys that worthyly, I wot and wene, My precious perle wythouten spot. Bifore that spot my honde I spenned For care ful colde that to me caght; A devely dele in my hert denned, Thagh resoun sette myselven saght. I playned my perle that ther was spenned Wyth fyrce skylles that faste faght; Thagh kynde of Kryst me comfort kenned. My wreched wylle in wo ay wraghte. I felle upon that floury flaght, Suche odour to my hernes schot; I slode upon a slepyng-slaghte On that precios perle wythouten spot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COAT OF FIRE by EDITH SITWELL TREES by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS BROTHER AND SISTER by MARY ANN EVANS THE LONELY CHILD by JAMES OPPENHEIM ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 68 by PHILIP SIDNEY OF AN ORCHARD by KATHARINE TYNAN THE DOUBLE-HEADED SNAKE OF NEWBURY by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO A LADY TO ANSWER DIRECTLY WITH YEA OR NAY by THOMAS WYATT |