Softe Quotes
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In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne, I shoop me into
shroudes as I a sheep were, In habite an
heremite unholy of werkes, Went wide in this
world wondres to here.
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More Softe Quotes
In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne,I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were,In habite as an heremite unholy of werkes,Wente wide in this world wondres to here.Ac on a May morwenynge on Malverne hillesMe bifel a ferly, of Fairye me thoghte.
william langland— B-text, Prologue, line 1
For which he wex a litel red for shame, Whan he the peple upon him herde cryen, That to beholde it was a noble game, How sobreliche he caste doun his yen. Criseyda gan al his chere aspyen, And let so softe it in her herte sinke That to herself she seyde, “Who yaf me drinke?”
Geoffrey Chaucer— Book 2, line 645-651.
