the Capon, and forsook That other, which his Fellow took. But when he wist how that it fared, He said aloud, that men it heard: “Now have I certainly conceived That he may lightly be deceived Who puts his trust in Help of Man. He’s rich whom God helps, for he can Stand ever on the safer side That else on Vain Hope had relied. I see my Fellow well supplied, And still a Poor Man I abide.” Thus spake the Beggar his intent, And poor he came, and poor he went; Of all the Riches that he sought His evil Fortune gave him nought. And right as it with those men stood, Of evil Hap in worldly Good, As thou hast heard me tell above, Right so, full oft, it stands by Love; Though thou desire it evermore Thou shalt not have a whit the more, But only what is meant for thee, Of all the rest not worth a Pea. And yet a long and endless Row There be of Men who covet so That whereas they a Woman see, To ten or twelve though there may be, The Love is now so little wise That where the Beauty takes his Eyes Anon the Man’s whole Heart is there And whispers Tales into her Ear, And says on her his Love is set, And thus he sets him to covet. A hundred though he saw a day, So would he have more than he may; In each of them he finds somewhat That pleaseth him, or this or that. Some one, for she is white of skin, Some one, for she is noble of kin, Some one, for she hath a ruddy cheek, Some one, for that she seemeth meek, Some one, for that her eyes are gray, Some one, for she can laugh and play, Some one, for she is long and small, Some one, for she is lithe and tall, Some one, for she is pale and bleach, Some one, for she is soft of speech, Some one, for that her nose turns down, Some one, for that she hath a frown, Some one, for she can dance and sing; So that of what he likes something He finds, and though no more he feel But that she hath a little heel, It is enough that he therefore Her love; and thus an hundred score While they be new he would he had, Whom he forsakes, she shall be bad. So the Blind Man no Colour sees, All’s one to take as he may please; And his Desire is darkly minded Whom Covetise of Love hath blinded. p. 81London Lickpenny. p. 81 By JOHN LYDGATE. By
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