Poets' corner
This month, love poetry by Geoffry Chaucer; 'Your eyen two . . .'
Your eyen two woll slee me sodenly,
I may the beaute of hem not sustene,
So woundeth hit throughout my herte kene.
And but your word woll helen hastily
5 My hertes wounde while that hit is grene,
Your eyen two woll slee me sodenly.
Upon my trouthe, I say you faithfully
That ye ben of my lif and deth the quene,
For with my deth the trouthe shall be sene.
10 Your eyen two woll slee me sodenly,
I may the beauty of hem not sustene,
So woundeth hit thrghout my herte kene.
1-3 The conciet of the 'wound' of love inflicted by the
lady's eyes on the lover's heart had a basis in medieval
physiology. Love was caused by an 'influence' emenation from
the eyes and travelling to the heart: cf. Knight's Tale,
C.T. I 1096-7.
3 kene keenly.
4 but unless
5 grene fresh (unmortified and therefore
still curable).
9 trouthe truth of my condition (and 'my
fidelity'?)