Chaucer's Prophecy - Poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
When priestes failen in their saws,
And lordes turne Godde's laws
Against the right;
And lechery is holden as privy solace,
And robbery as free purchase,
Beware then of ill!
Then shall the Land of Albion
Turne to confusion,
As sometime it befell.
Ora pro Anglia Sancta Maria, quod Thomas Cantuaria.
Sweet Jesus, heaven's King,
Fair and best of all thing,
You bring us out of this mourning,
To come to thee at our ending!
Comments about Chaucer's Prophecy by Geoffrey Chaucer
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Read poems about / on: heaven
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You