Here you will find the Poem Lak of Stedfastnesse of poet Geoffrey Chaucer
Somtyme the world was so stedfast and stable That mannes word was obligacioun, And now it is so fals and deceivable That word and deed, as in conclusioun, Ben nothing lyk, for turned up-so-doun Is al this world for mede and wilfulnesse, That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse. What maketh this world to be so variable But lust that folk have in dissensioun? For among us now a man is holde unable, But if he can by som collusioun Don his neighbour wrong or oppressioun. What causeth this but wilful wrecchednesse, That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse? Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable, Vertu hath now no dominacioun; Pitee exyled, no man is merciable. Through covetyse is blent discrecioun. The world hath mad a permutacioun Fro right to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelnesse, That al is lost for lak of stedfastnesse. O prince, desyre to be honourable, Cherish thy folk and hate extorcioun. Suffre nothing that may be reprevable To thyn estat don in thy regioun. Shew forth thy swerd of castigacioun, Dred God, do law, love trouthe and worthinesse, And wed thy folk agein to stedfastnesse.