The prohemye.

The gentyll poetes/vnder cloudy fygures 
Do touche a trouth/and clokeit subtylly 
Harde is to cōstrue poetycall scryptures 
They are so fayned/& made sētēcyously 
For som do wryte of loue by fables pryuely 
Some do endyte/vpon good moralyte 
Of chyualrous actes/done in antyquyte 
Whose fables and storyes ben pastymes pleasaunt 
To lordes and ladyes/as is theyr lykynge 
Dyuers to moralyte/ben oft attendaunt 
And many delyte to rede of louynge 
Youth loueth aduenture/pleasure and lykynge 
Aege foloweth polycy/sadnesse and prudence 
Thus they do dyffre/eche in experyence 
I lytell or nought/experte in this scyence 
Compyle suche bokes/to deuoyde ydlenes 
Besechynge the reders/with all my delygence 
Where as I offende/for to correct doubtles 
Submyttynge me to theyr grete gentylnes 
As none hystoryagraffe/nor poete laureate 
But gladly wolde folowe/the makynge of Lydgate 
Fyrst noble Gower/moralytees dyde endyte 
And after hym Cauncers/grete bokes delectable 
Lyke a good phylozophre/meruaylously dyde wryte 
After them Lydgate/the monke commendable 
Made many wonderfull bokes moche profytable 
But syth the are deed/& theyr bodyes layde in chest 
I pray to god to gyue theyr soules good rest 

Finis prohemii.

Whan fayre was phebus/w&supere; his bemes bryght 
Amyddes of gemyny/aloft the fyrmament 
Without blacke cloudes/castynge his pured lyght 
With sorowe opprest/and grete incombrement 
Remembrynge well/my lady excellent 
Saynge o fortune helpe me to preuayle 
For thou knowest all my paynfull trauayle 
I went than musynge/in a medowe grene 
Myselfe alone/amonge the floures in dede 
With god aboue/the futertens is sene 
To god I sayd/thou mayst my mater spede 
And me rewarde/accordynge to my mede 
Thou knowest the trouthe/I am to the true 
Whan that thou lyst/thou mayst them all subdue 
Who dyde preserue the yonge edyppus 
Whiche sholde haue be slayne by calculacyon 
To deuoyde grete thynges/the story sheweth vs 
That were to come/by true reuelacyon 
Takynge after theyr hole operacyon 
In this edyppus/accordynge to affecte 
Theyr cursed calkynge/holly to abiecte 
Who dyde preserue/Ionas and moyses 
Who dyde preserue yet many other mo 
As the byble maketh mencyon doubles 
Who dyde kepe Charles frome his euyll fo 
Who was he/that euer coude do so 
But god alone/than in lykewyse maye he 
Kepe me full sure/frome all inyquyte 
Thus as I called to my remembraunce 
Suche trewe examples/I tenderly dyde wepe 
Remembrynge well/goddes hyghe ordynaūce 
Syghynge full oft/with inwarde teres depe 
Tyll at the last/I fell in to a slepe 
And in this slepe/me thought I dyde repayre 
My selfe alone/in to a garden fayre 
This goodly gardyn/I dyde well beholde 
Where I sawe a place/ryght gaye and gloryous 
With golden turrettes/paynted many afolde 
Lyke a place of pleasure moste solacyous 
The wyndowes glased/with crystall precyous 
The golden fanes/with wynde and melody 
By dulcet sounde/and meruaylous armony 
The knottes flagraunt/with aromatyke odoure 
With goodly sprynges/of meruaylous mountaynes 
I dyde than tast/the redolent lycoure 
Moost clere and swete/of the goodly vaynes 
Whiche dyde me ease/somwhat of my paynes 
Tyll to me came/a lady of goodly age 
Apareyled sadly/and demure of vysage 
To me she sayd/me thynke ye are not well 
Ye haue caught colde/and do lyue in care 
Tell me your mynde/now shortly euerydeie 
To layne the trouthe/I charge you to beware 
I shall for you/a remedy prepare 
Dyspeyre you not/for no thynge that is past 
Tell me your mynde/and be nought agast 
Al as madame/vnto her than I sayd 
It is no wonder/of myne inwarde payne 
Yf that my herte be meruayllously dysmayde 
My trouthe and loue/therof is cause certayne 
Dyuers yeres ago/I dyde in mynde retayne 
A lady yonge/a lady fayre of syght 
Good//wyse/and goodly/an holsome sterre of lyght 
I durst not speke vnto her of my loue 
Yet vnder coloure I dyuers bokes dyde make 
Full pryuely/to come to my aboue 
Thus many nyghtes/I watched for her sake 
To her and to hers/my trouthe well to take 
Without ony spotte/of ony maner yll 
God knoweth all myn herte/my mynde & my wyll 
The hygh dame nature/by her grete myght & power 
Man/beest/and foule/in euery degre 
Fro whens they came at euery maner houre 
Dooth trye the trouthe/without duplycyte 
For euery thynge must shewe the properte 
Gentyll vngentyll/dame nature so well tryet 
That all persones it openly espyeth 
The lorde and knyght/delyteth for to here 
Cronycles and storyes/of noble chyualry 
The gentyll man gentylnes/for his passe tyme clere 
The man of lawe/to here lawe truely 
The yeman delyteth to talke of yomanry 
The ploman his