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Art. 46, Ichot a burde in boure bryht

ART. 46, ICHOT A BURDE IN BOURE BRYHT: EXPLANATORY NOTES


ABBREVIATIONS: AND: Anglo-Norman Dictionary; ANL: Anglo-Norman Literature: A Guide to Texts and Manuscripts (R. Dean and Boulton); BL: British Library (London); Bodl.: Bodleian Library (Oxford); CCC: Corpus Christi College (Cambridge); CUL: Cambridge University Library (Cambridge); IMEV: The Index of Middle English Verse (Brown and Robbins); IMEV Suppl.: Supplement to the Index of Middle English Verse (Robbins and Cutler); MED: Middle English Dictionary; MWME: A Manual of the Writings in Middle English, 1050–1500 (Severs et al.); NIMEV: A New Index of Middle English Verse (Boffey and Edwards); NLS: National Library of Scotland (Edinburgh).

burden The form of this poem is a carol, and the first four unnumbered lines (written by the scribe) constitute the burden, that is, the external refrain. It is to be sung at the beginning and after each stanza. See also art. 36.

13–15 On the phrasing, compare The Fair Maid of Ribblesdale (art. 34), lines 31–32.

31 A line suggestive of matrimonial desire. Compare The Fair Maid of Ribblesdale (art 34), line 55, and An Old Man’s Prayer (art. 45), line 21.

67 solsecle. See explanatory note to Annot and John (art. 28), line 20.


ART. 46, ICHOT A BURDE IN BOURE BRYHT: TEXTUAL NOTES


ABBREVIATIONS: As: Aspin; Bö: Böddeker; Bos: Bossy; Br: Brook; BS: Bennett and Smithers; BZ: Brandl and Zippel; B13: Brown 1932; B14: Brown 1952; DB: Dunn and Byrnes; Deg: Degginger; Do: Dove 1969; Gr: Greene 1977; Ha: Halliwell; Hal: Hall; Hol: Holthausen; Hor1: Horstmann 1878; Hor2: Horstmann 1896; Hu: Hulme; JL: Jeffrey and Levy; Ju: Jubinal; Kel: Keller; Ken: Kennedy; Le: Lerer 2008; Mc: McKnight; Mi: Millett; MR: Michelant and Raynaud; Mo: Morris and Skeat; MS: MS Harley 2253; Mu: H. M. R. Murray; Pa: Patterson; Pr: Pringle 2009; Rei: Reichl 1973; Rev1: Revard 2004; Rev2: Revard 2005b; Ri1: Ritson 1877; Ri2: Ritson 1885; Ro: Robbins 1959; Sa: Saupe; Si: Silverstein; St: Stemmler 1970; Tr: Treharne; Tu: Turville-Petre 1989; Ul: Ulrich; W1: Wright 1839; W2: Wright 1841; W3: Wright 1842; W4: Wright 1844; WH: Wright and Halliwell.

burden Written at the head of the poem. The repetition after each stanza is signaled by the scribe after lines 8 and 20. See also art. 36.

2 sully. So MS, Br, BS, St, Si. W3, Ri1, Bö, BZ, B13, Gr, Tr: fully.

9–12 MS, W3, Ri1, Bö, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Tr: Blow &c. BZ, Gr: omitted.

10 Sent. So MS, W3, Bö, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. Ri1: Send.

14 fonde. So MS, W3, Bö, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. Ri1: fonge.

20 leflich. So MS, W3, Bö, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. Ri1: leflych.

21–24 MS, W3, Ri1, Bö, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Tr: Blou &c. BZ, Gr: omitted.

44 heste. So MS, W3, Ri1, Bö, BZ, Br, BS, St, Gr, Tr. B13: beste.

54 bi west. So MS, W3, Bö, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. Ri1: by west.

55 fiele. So MS, W3, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Tr. Ri1: ficle. Bö, Gr: fiþele.

63 clannesse. So MS, W3, Bö, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. Ri1: clairnesse.

67 solsecle. So MS, W3, Ri1, BZ, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Tr. Bö: selsecle. Gr: salsecle.

73 leflich. So MS, W3, Ri1, Bö BZ, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr. B13, Tr: loflich.

97 Hire. So MS, W3, Ri1, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. Bö, BZ, Gr: omitted.

101 bisecheth. So MS, W3, Ri1, Bö, B13, Br, BS, St, Si, Gr, Tr. BZ: biseche.

 
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¶ Blow, northerne wynd,
Sent thou me my suetyng!
Blow, northerne wynd,
Blou! Blou! Blou!


Ichot a burde in boure bryht
That sully semly is on syht:
Menskful maiden of myht,
   Feir ant fre to fonde.
In al this wurhliche won,
A burde of blod ant of bon
Never yete Y nuste non
   Lussomore in londe!
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


With lokkes lefliche ant longe,
With frount ant face feir to fonde,
With murthes monie mote heo monge —     
   That brid so breme in boure!
With lossom eye grete ant gode,
With browen blysfol under hode —
He that reste him on the rode
   That leflich lyf honoure!
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


Hire lure lumes liht
Ase a launterne anyht;
Hire bleo blykyeth so bryht —
   So feyr heo is, ant fyn!
A suetly suyre heo hath, to holde,
With armes, shuldre, ase mon wolde,
Ant fyngres feyre forte folde.
   God wolde hue were myn!
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


Middel heo hath menskful smal;
Hire loveliche chere as cristal;
Theghes, legges, fet, ant al,
   Ywraht wes of the beste.
A lussum ledy, lasteles
That sweting is, ant ever wes —
A betere burde never nes,
   Yheryed with the heste.
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


Heo is dereworthe in day:
Graciouse, stout, ant gay,
Gentil, jolyf so the jay,
   Wohrliche when heo waketh.
Maiden murgest of mouth —
Bi est, bi west, by north, ant south,
Ther nis fiele ne crouth
   That such murthes maketh!
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


Heo is coral of godnesse;
Heo is rubie of ryhtfulnesse;
Heo is cristal of clannesse;
   Ant baner of bealte.
Heo is lilie of largesse;
Heo is paruenke of prouesse;
Heo is solsecle of suetnesse,
   Ant ledy of lealte.
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


To Love, that leflich is in londe,
Y tolde him, as Ych understonde,
Hou this hende hath hent in honde
   On huerte that myn wes,
Ant hire knyhtes me han so soht —
Sykyng, Sorewyng, ant Thoht —
Tho thre me han in bale broht
   Ageyn the poer of Pees.
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


To Love Y putte pleyntes mo:
Hou Sykyng me hath siwed so;
Ant eke Thoht me thrat to slo
   With maistry, yef he myhte;
Ant Serewe, sore in balful bende,
That he wolde, for this hende,
Me lede to my lyves ende,
   Unlahfulliche in lyhte.
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


Hire Love me lustnede, uch word,
Ant beh him to me over bord,
Ant bed me hente that hord
   Of myne huerte hele:
“Ant bisecheth that swete ant swote,      
Er then thou falle ase fen of fote,
That heo with the wolle, of bote,
   Dereworthliche dele.”
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!


For hire love Y carke ant care;
For hire love Y droupne ant dare;
For hire love my blisse is bare,
   Ant al Ich waxe won!
For hire love in slep Y slake;
For hire love al nyht Ich wake;
For hire love mournyng Y make
   More then eny mon!
      Blow, northerne wynd,
      Sent thou me my suetyng!
      Blow northerne wynd,
      Blou! Blou! Blou!

 
¶ Blow, northern wind,
Send me my sweetheart!
Blow, northern wind,
Blow! Blow! Blow!


I know a lady in a bright bower
Who’s wondrously perfect to behold:
Graceful maiden of power,
   Fair and excellent to discover.
In all this splendid place,
No woman of blood and bone
Have I ever yet known
   More lovely in the land!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


With locks beautiful and long,
With forehead and face fair to see,
With many people she may be festive —
   That lady so sparkling in bower!
With lovely eyes large and good,
With eyebrows blissful under hood —
May he who rests himself on the cross
   Honor that lovable life!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


Her cheek gleams with light
Like a lantern by night;
Her face shines so bright —
   So fair she is, and refined!
A pretty neck she has, for embracing,
With arms, shoulder, as one would like,
And fingers fair to clasp.
   Would to God she were mine!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


She has a waist delicately small;
Her lovely face like crystal;
Thighs, legs, feet, and all,
   Shaped in the best way.
A lovely lady, faultless
That sweetheart is and always was —
A better woman there’s never been,
   Praised among the highest.
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


She is precious by day:
Gracious, dignified, and amiable,
Noble, lively as the bluejay,
   Beautiful when she awakens.
Maiden merriest of mouth —
By east, by west, by north, and south,
There’s neither fiddle nor viol
   That creates such joys!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


She is coral of goodness;
She is ruby of uprightness;
She is crystal of chastity;
   And banner of beauty.
She is lily of generosity;
She is periwinkle of excellence;
She is marigold of sweetness,
   And lady of loyalty.
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


To Love, who’s beloved everywhere,
I told him, as I understand,
How this courteous one has captured in hand
   A heart that was mine,
And her knights have so sought after me —
Sighing, Sorrowing, and Thought —
Those three have brought me to misery
   Against the authority of Peace.
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


To Love I made further complaints:
How Sighing has so pursued me;
And also Thought threatened to slay me
   With force, if he could;
And Sorrow, injured by grievous bondage,
Would, on account of this courteous one,
Lead me to my life’s end,
   Unlawfully and plainly.
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


Her Love listened to me, every word,
And bent himself toward me over the table,
And ordered me to embrace that treasure
   For my heart’s cure:
“And beseech that sweet and gentle one,
Before you fall like mud off a foot,
That she will with you, for remedy,
   Affectionately negotiate.”
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!


For her love I fret and sorrow;
For her love I droop and falter;
For her love my bliss is barren,
   And I grow pale!
For her love in sleep I slacken;
For her love all night I awaken;
For her love I make mourning
   More than any man!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Send me my sweetheart!
      Blow, northern wind,
      Blow! Blow! Blow!

 
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Go To Art. 47, Alle that beoth of huerte trewe, introduction
Go To Art. 47, Alle that beoth of huerte trewe, text