Playful Poems
wed, Saving a child, that was but six months old; A little boy in cradle rocked and rolled. This daughter was a stout and well-grown lass, With broad flat nose, and eyes as grey as glass. Broad were her hips; her bosom round and high; But right fair was she here—I will not lie.

The rector of the town, as she was fair, A purpose had to make her his sole heir, Both of his cattle and his tenement; But only if she married as he meant. It was his purpose to bestow her high, Into some worthy blood of ancestry: For holy Church’s good must be expended On holy Church’s blood that is descended; Therefore he would his holy Church honour, Although that holy Church he should devour.

Great toll and fee had Simkin, out of doubt, With wheat and malt, of all the land about, And in especial was the Soler Hall— A college great at Cambridge thus they call— Which at this mill both wheat and malt had ground. And on a day it suddenly was found, Sick lay the Manciple of a malady; And men for certain thought that he must die. Whereon this Miller both of corn and meal An hundred times more than before did steal; For, ere this chance, he stole but courteously, But now he was a thief outrageously. The Warden scolded with an angry air; But this the Miller rated not a tare: He sang high bass, and swore it was not so!

There were two scholars young, and poor, I trow, That dwelt within the Hall of which I say. Headstrong they were and lusty for to play; And merely for their mirth and revelry, Out to the Warden eagerly they cry, That be should let them, for a merry round, Go to the mill and see their own corn ground, And each would fair and boldly lay his neck The Miller should not steal them half a peck Of corn by sleight, nor by main force bereave.

And at the last the Warden gave them leave: One was called John, and Allen named the other; From the same town they came, which was called Strauther, Far in the North—I cannot tell you where.

This Allen maketh ready all his gear, And on a horse the sack he cast anon: Forth go these merry clerks, Allen and John, With good sword and with buckler by their side. John knew the way, and needed not a guide; And at the mill the sack adown he layeth.

Allen spake first:—“Simon, all hail! in faith, How fares thy daughter, and thy worthy wife?”  “Allen,” quoth Simkin, “welcome, by my life; And also John:—how now! what do ye here?”  “Simon,” quoth John, “compulsion has no peer. They who’ve nae lackeys must themselves bestir, Or else they are but fools, as clerks 
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