[NPM] today's poem

[angevin2]

Wenest thu, uscher
Anon. English, 14th c.

Wenest thu, uscher, with thy cointise,
Iche day thu beten us on this wise,
As thu wer lord of toun?
We had lever scole forsake,
And ilche of us another crafte take,
Then long to be in thy bandoun.

But wolde God that we might ones
Cache thee at the mulne stones,
Or at the crabbe tree --
We schuld leve in thee such a probeyt
For that thu hast us don and seid,
That alle thy kin shuld rue thee.

And tho Sire Robert, with his cloke,
Wold thee helpe and be thy Poke,
The werre thu schust fare;
And for his prayer the rather we wold
Given him stripes all uncolde,
Not for him thee spare.

For ofte sore we abye
The twinkelinges of his eye,
The maister us to bete;
For he and thu are at assent,
All day given agagement
To given us strokes grete.