Selden's voice was surprisingly strong, Geoffrey thought. The master hardly ever sang out at Chapter, or even Mass for that matter. And why so mournful a song? It was one the boy remembered his mother singing, the tune so bittersweet and lovely.
Man mei longe him lives wene,
ac ofte him liyet the wreinch;
fair weder ofte him went to rene,
an ferliche maket is blench
thar-vore, man, thu the bithench,
al sel valui the grene,
wela-wey Nis King ne Quene
that ne sel drinke of dethis drench.
Man, er thu falle of thi bench,
thu sinne aquench.
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thanks, dylan - I'll check in the morning!
ReplyDeleteNot much here, I'm afraid. I hope to write more tonight. My mum's receiving radiation therapy for breast cancer and things have been hectic. The prognosis, though, is very positive. No worries!
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