Akshit posted an Question
March 02, 2021 • 05:07 am 30 points
  • UGC NET
  • English

The complaint of troilus written by & published in ?

the complaint of troilus written by & published in ?

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    Deb dulal halder Halder Best Answer

    The Complaint of Troilus by Geoffrey Chaucer "O palace, whilom crown of houses all, Enlumined with sun of alle bliss! O ring, fro which the ruby is outfall, O cause of woe, that cause hast been of liss! Yet since I may no bet, fain would I kiss Thy colde doores, durst I for this rout; And farewell shrine, of which the saint is out! . . .' From thennesforth he rideth up and down, And everything come him to remembrance, As he rode forby places of the town In which he whilom had all his pleasance. "Lo, yonder saw I last my lady dance; And in that temple, with her eyen clear, Me caughte first my righte lady dear. "And yonder have I heard full lustily My deare hearte laugh; and yonder play Saw I her ones eek full blissfully. And yonder ones to me gan she say, "Now goode sweete, love me well, I pray;" And yond so goodly gan she me behold, That to the death mine heart is to her hold. "And at that corner, in the yonder house Heard I my allerliefest lady dear So womanly, with voice melodious, Singen so well, so goodly, and so clear, That in my soule yet me think'th I hear The blissful sound; and in that yonder place My lady first me took unto her grace. "O star, of which I lost have all the light, With hearte sore well ought I to bewail, That ever dark in torment, night by night, Toward my death with wind in steer I sail: For which the tenthe night, if that I fail The guiding of thy beames bright an hour, My ship and me Charybdis will devour.' "Was there none other brooch you liste let To fiefe with your newe love,' quod he, "But thilke brooch that I, with teares wet, You gave, as for a remembraance of me? None other cause, alas, ne hadde ye But for despite, and eek for that ye meant All utterly to shewen your entent. "Through which I see that clean out of your mind Ye have me cast; and I ne can nor may, For all this world, within my hearte find To unloven you a quarter of a day! In cursed time I born was, wellaway, That you, that do me all this woe endure, Yet love I best of any creature!'

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