EDWARD I.

We have here an early attempt at Elegy. died July 7. 1307, in the 3th year of his reign, and 69th of his age. This poem appears to have been compofed foon after his death. According to the modes of thinking peculiar to thofe times, the writer dwells more upon his devotion, than his skill in government, and pays less attention to. the martial and political abilities of this great monarch, in which he had no equal, than to fome little weaknesses of fuperftition, which he had in common with all his cotemporaries. The king had in the decline of life vowed an expedition to the holy land, but finding his end approach, he dedicated the fum of 32,000l. to the maintenance of a large body of knights (140 fay hiftorians, 80 lays our poet,) who were to carry his heart with them into Paleftine. This dying command of the king was never performed. Our poet with the boneft prejudices of an Englishman, attributes this failure to the advice of the king of France, whose daughter Isabel our young monarch immediately married. But the truth is, Edward and bis deftructive favourite Piers Gavefton Spent money upon their pleasures. To do the greater honour memory of his heroe, our poet puts his eloge in the mouth of the Pope; with the fome poetic licence, as a more modern bard would have introduced Britannia, or the Gevius of Europe pouring forth his praifes.

the

to the

This antique Elegy is extracted from the fame MS volume, as the preceding article; is found with the fame peculiarities of writing and orthography; and tho' written at near the diftance of half a century contains little or no

varia

variation of idiom: whereas the next following poem by Chaucer, which was probably written not more than 50 or 60 years after this, exhibits almost a new language. This feems to countenance the opinion of fome antiquaries, that this great poet made confiderable innovations in his mother tongue, and introduced many terms, and new modes of fpeech from other languages.

A

LLE, that beoth of huerte trewe,

A ftounde herkneth to my fong

Of duel, that Deth hath diht us newe,

That maketh me fyke, ant forewe among;

Of a knyht, that wes fo ftrong,

Of wham God hath don ys wille;

Me-thuncheth that deth hath don us wrong,

Al Englond ahte for te knowe

Of wham that fong is, that y fynge;
Of Edward kyng, that lith fo lowe,

Zent al this world is nome con springe:
Treweft mon of alle thinge,

Ant in werre war ant wys,

For him we ahte oure honden wrynge,

5

10

35

Byfore that oure kyng wes ded,
He fpek afe mon that wes in care,
Clerkes, knyhtes, barons, he fayde,
Y charge ou by oure sware,

B 4

20

<< That

:

"That ye to Engelonde be trewe.

"Y deze, y ne may lyven na more;
"Helpeth mi fone, ant crouneth him newe,

"For he is neft to buen

y-core.

"With fourfcore knyhtes al of prys, "In werre that buen war ant wys,

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"Azein the hethene for te fyhte,
"To wynne the croiz that lowe lys,
"Myfelf ycholde zef that y myhte."

Kyng of Fraunce, thou hevedeft finne,'
That thou the counfail woldest fonde,
To latte the wille of Edward kyng'

To wende to the holy londe:
That oure kyng hede take on honde

All Engelond to zeme ant wyffe,

To wenden in to the holy londe

To wynnen us heveriche bliffe.

The meffager to the pope com,

And feyde that oure kynge wes ded :

Ys oune hond the lettre he nom,

Ywis his herte wes ful gret :

35

40

The

Thisis probably the name of fome perfon, who was to prefide over this bufinefs. Ver. 33. funne. MS. Ver. 35. kyng Edward. MS, Ver. 43. ys is probably a contraction of in hys er yn his.

The Pope him felf the lettre redde,

Ant fpec a word of gret honour.
Alas! he feid, is Edward ded?

"Of Cristendome he ber the flour."

The Pope to is chaumbre wende,

45

The holy crois y-mad of tre,

"So fain thou woldest hit hav y-wonne.

"Jerufalem, thou haft i-lore

"The flour of al chivalrie

"Now kyng Edward liveth na more:

"Alas! that he zet fhulde deye!

Vær. 55. Me, i.c. Men, so in Robert of Gloucester passim.

65

"He

He wolde ha rered up ful heyze

"Oure banners, that bueth broht to grounde; "Wel! longe we mowe clepe and crie

"Er we a fuch kyng han y-founde."

Nou is Edward of Carnarvan
King of Engelond al aplyht,
God lete him ner be worfe man
Then is fader, ne laffe of myht,
To holden is pore men to ryht,

And understonde good counfail,
Al Engelong for to wyffe ant dyht;
Of gode knyhtes darh him nout fail.

Thah mi tonge were mad of stel,

Ant min herte yzote of bras,
The godness myht y never telle,
That with kyng Edward was:
Kyng, as thou art cleped conquerour,
In uch bataille thou hadeft prys;
God bringe thi foule to the honour,

That ever wes, ant ever ys.*

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75

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*Here follow in the original three lines more, which, as apparently purious, we chufe to throw to the bottom of the Page, viz.

That lafteth ay withouten ende,

Bidde we God, ant oure Ledy to thilke bliffe
Jefus us fende. Amen.

III. AN