(Modernised from the ‘Chaucer’ of Manallace.)
THAT which is marred at birth Time shall not mend.
Nor water out of bitter well make clean;
A11 evil thing returneth at the end.
Or elseway walketh in our blood unseen.
Whereby the more is sorrow in certaine —
Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe.
To-bruized be that slender, sterting spray
Out of the oake’s rind that should betide
A branch of girt and goodliness, straightway
Her spring is turned on herself, and wried
And knotted like some gall or veiney wen. —
Dayspring mishandled cometh not agen.
Noontide repayeth never morning-bliss —
Sith noon to morn is incomparable;
And, so it be our dawning goth amiss.
None other after-hour serveth well.
Ah! Jesu–Moder, pitie my oe paine —
Dayspring mishandled cometh not againe!
Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:56