"For him was lever have at his beddes heed Twenty bokes, clad in blak or reed, Of Aristotle and his philosophye, Than robes riche, or fithele, or gay sautrye. But al be that he was a philosophre, Yet hadde he but litel gold in cofre."

"A ther was of Oxenford also, That un-to logik hadde longe y-go. As lene was his hors as is a rake, And he nas nat right fat, I undertake; But loked holwe, and ther-to soberly."

"Of studie took he most cure and most hede. Noght o word spak he more than was nede, And that was seyd in forme and reverence, And short and quik, and ful of hy sentence. Souninge in moral vertu was his speche, And gladly wolde he lerne, and gladly teche."

"Somwhat he lipsed, for his wantownesse, To make his English swete up-on his tonge."

"He was the beste beggere in his hous."

"A was ther with a forked berd, In mottelee, and hye on horse he sat, Up-on his heed a Flaundrish bever hat; His botes clasped faire and fetisly. His resons he spak ful solempnely."

"A , war and wys, That often hadde been at the Parvys, Ther was also, ful riche of excellence."

"And, certeinly, he was a good felawe."

"His palfrey was as broun as is a berye."

"His heed was balled, that shoon as any glas."

"A ther was, a wantown and a merye, A limitour, a ful solempne man. In alle the ordres foure is noon that can So muche of daliaunce and fair langage. He hadde maad ful many a mariage Of yonge wommen, at his owne cost. Un-to his ordre he was a noble post."

"And, whan he rood, men mighte his brydel here Ginglen in a whistling wind as clere, And eek as loude as dooth the chapel-belle."

"A ther was, a fair for the maistrye, An out-rydere, that lovede venerye; A manly man, to been an abbot able."

"He yaf nat of that text a pulled hen, That seith, that hunters been nat holy men."

"Therfore, in stede of weping and preyeres, Men moot yeve silver to the povre freres."

"Wostow nat wel the olde clerkes sawe, That ‘who shal yeve a lover any lawe?’ Love is a gretter lawe, by my pan, Than may be yeve to any erthly man."

"Of smal coral aboute hir arm she bar A peire of bedes, gauded al with grene; And ther-on heng a broche of gold ful shene, On which ther was first write a crowned A, And after, Amor vincit omnia."

"He knew the tavernes wel in every toun."

"Of nyce conscience took he no keep. If that he faught, and hadde the hyer hond, By water he sente hem hoom to every lond."

"信心不二不二信心言語道斷非去來今"

"一切不留無可記憶虛明自照不勞心力非思量處識情難測"

"有即是無無即是有若不如是必不須守"

"夢幻空華何勞把捉得失是非一時放卻"

"多言多慮轉不相應絕言絕慮無處不通"

"前空轉變皆由妄見不用求真唯須息見"

"一即一切一切即一但能如是何慮不畢"

"境由能境能由境能欲知兩段元是一空"

"違順相爭是為心病不識玄旨徒勞念靜"

"一種不通兩處失功遣有沒有從空背空"

"Still from the sire the son shall hear Of the stern strife, and carnage drear, Of Flodden's fatal field, Where shiver'd was fair Scotland's spear, And broken was her shield!"

"To all, to each, a fair good-night, And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light!"

"The stubborn spear-men still made good Their dark impenetrable wood, Each stepping where his comrade stood, The instant that he fell."

"O, Woman! in our hours of ease, Uncertain, coy, and hard to please, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; When pain and anguish wring the brow, A ministering angel thou!"

"A light on Marmion’s visage spread, And fired his glazing eye: With dying hand, above his head, He shook the fragment of his blade, And shouted "Victory!— Charge, Chester, charge! On, Stanley, on!" Were the last words of Marmion."

"O woman! in the hour of strife, The plague, the torment of our life, And variable as the shade By the light quivering aspen made; Whenever gifts there are enow A condescending creature thou!"

"Oh for a blast of that dread horn On Fontarabian echoes borne!"

"Heap on more wood!-the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We’ll keep our Christmas merry still."

"England was merry England, when Old Christmas brought his sports again. ’Twas Christmas broach’d the mightiest ale; ’Twas Christmas told the merriest tale; A Christmas gambol oft could cheer The poor man’s heart through half the year."

"She look'd down to blush, and she look'd up to sigh, With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye."

"But woe awaits a country when She sees the tears of bearded men."

"And darest thou then To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall?"

"And now am I come, with this lost love of mine, To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine."

"O, what a tangled web we weave, When first we practise to deceive!"

"O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best."

"So shall he strive, in changeful hue, Field, feast, and combat, to renew, And loves, and arms, and harpers' glee, And all the pomp of chivalry."

"Lightly from fair to fair he flew, And loved to plead, lament, and sue; Suit lightly won, and short-lived pain, For monarchs seldom sigh in vain."