Ful _long_ | _e_ wern | his leg | gus, and | ful lene; legs, lean Al like | a staff | ther was | no calf | y-sene. (_Prologue--‘Reve.’_) or in Chaucer’s exquisite greeting of the daisy-- Knelyng | alwey | til it | unclo | sèd was always Upon | the _sma_ | _le_, _sof_ | _te_, _swo_ | _te_ gras. small, soft, sweet (_Legend of Good Women._) How much of the beauty and natural swing of Chaucer’s poetry is lost by translation into modern English, is but too clear when that beauty is once perceived; but I thought some modernization of the old lines would help the child to catch the sense of the original more readily: for my own rendering, I can only make the apology that when I commenced my work I did not know it would be impossible to procure suitable modernized versions by eminent poets. Finding that unattainable, I merely endeavoured to render the old version in modern English as closely as was compatible with sense, and the simplicity needful for a child’s mind; and I do not in any degree pretend to have rendered it in poetry. The beauty of such passages as the death of Arcite is too delicate and evanescent to bear rough handling. But I may here quote some of the lines as an example of the importance of the final _e_ in emphasizing certain words with an almost solemn music. And with | that word | his _spech_ | _e fail_ | _e_ gan; speech, fail For fro | his feete | up to | his brest | was come The cold | of deth | that hadde | him o | ver nome; overtaken And yet | moreo | ver in | his _ar_ | _mes_ twoo now, arms The vi | tal strength | is lost, | and al | agoo. gone Only | the in | tellect, | withou | ten more, without That dwel | led in | his _her_ | _te_ sik | and sore, heart, sick Gan _fayl_ | _e_ when | the _her_ | _te felt_ | _e_ deth. began to fail, felt death (_Knight’s Tale._) There is hardly anything finer than Chaucer’s version of the story of these passionate young men, up to the touching close of Arcite’s accident and the beautiful patience of death. In life nothing would have reconciled the almost animal fury of the rivals, but at the last such a resignation comes to Arcite that he gives up Emelye to Palamon with a sublime effort of self-sacrifice. Throughout the whole of the Knight’s Tale sounds as of rich organ music seem to peal from the page; throughout the Clerk’s Tale one seems to hear strains of infinite sadness echoing the strange outrages imposed on patient Grizel. But without attention to the rhythm half the grace and music is lost, and therefore it is all-important that the child be properly taught to preserve it.