An English assignment for this year. We had to pick a maxim and write a
story that one of the pilgrims in the Canterbury Tales would tell. We were
allowed to write it in narrative form using modern language, but I like the
rhyming version better. By the way, this is only the rough draft. I'll
upload the revised version when I finish it.
The Oxford Cleric's Tale
"You there, student, tell us a tale so that we may once again be in good spirits.
You have been rather quiet, this whole time and now it's time to speak."
"Yes, sir, I will tell my tale, but first I must put away my study booklets.
I will tell a tale with lessons not to be learned in any normal week,
'Tis a tale of many things, but most importantly of knowledge.
My tale begins in a small Italian town, a student sits alone
Studying for his classes at his uncle's up-scale college.
He studies hard for hours on end, but no one ever heard him moan.
Unconfident was he in his studious ways of learning things,
He believed himself to someday be beaten. A weakness for him
As he studied throughout the evenings and onto the mornings.
Such fear of failure overtook him and his earnings grew slim.
Yet still he tried so hard and went to his college every day
But one strange morn an unusual happening took place
From the eastern towns a new student came from the highway.
His chin, he held high and looked at the others with eyes of grey.
So sure and satisfied was he. He'd had no fear in his abilities
And seated himself in the front of the room. He was so confident
As his knowledge made the others look just like babies.
Every answer he knew, but strange it was that in his basement,
He never studied, for he knew it all. Day by day, the other student,
The one who studied day and night, grew more unhappy in his own
Studies. So self-dissatisfied was he with his pen and parchment.
He read his notes over and over till he ached in his bones.
He wished for knowledge to make him smart and bright,
As he sat at his desk reviewing every piece of his work.
And after time, he grew to be more self-confident, despite
The pressures of the genius new grey-eyed clerk.
And that one, oh what a fool was he! Never a book was opened
Or pen touched to parchment. He believed that he was best
And never would he be beaten. While the other's knowledge deepened,
This fellow, in his mind, remained calm and unstressed.
And finally the day came, of the biggest test of the year,
In which students competed one on one for the school's prize.
These two fellows against each other would appear,
One who studied and one who didn't- the one with grey eyes.
The questions came and the latter answered each
But few were said correctly, much to his shock and dismay.
After some time, the first began to remember and found his speech.
Each answer correct, ol' grey-eyes was soon outplayed.
And the winner was the one who studied hard each twilight,
Because he tried his best and learned to find confidence
Within his own abilities. He soon then left and said goodnight
To his opponent who thought himself to be smartest once."
"So my friends, don't think yourselves flawless.
The moral of my tale, I'm sure you'll agree:
'To be too dissatisfied with ourselves is a weakness.
To be too satisfied with ourselves is a stupidity.'
Maxim: "To be too dissatisfied with ourselves is a weakness. To be too satisfied with ourselves is a stupidity." -Madame de Sablè-
The Oxford Cleric's Tale
"You there, student, tell us a tale so that we may once again be in good spirits.
You have been rather quiet, this whole time and now it's time to speak."
"Yes, sir, I will tell my tale, but first I must put away my study booklets.
I will tell a tale with lessons not to be learned in any normal week,
'Tis a tale of many things, but most importantly of knowledge.
My tale begins in a small Italian town, a student sits alone
Studying for his classes at his uncle's up-scale college.
He studies hard for hours on end, but no one ever heard him moan.
Unconfident was he in his studious ways of learning things,
He believed himself to someday be beaten. A weakness for him
As he studied throughout the evenings and onto the mornings.
Such fear of failure overtook him and his earnings grew slim.
Yet still he tried so hard and went to his college every day
But one strange morn an unusual happening took place
From the eastern towns a new student came from the highway.
His chin, he held high and looked at the others with eyes of grey.
So sure and satisfied was he. He'd had no fear in his abilities
And seated himself in the front of the room. He was so confident
As his knowledge made the others look just like babies.
Every answer he knew, but strange it was that in his basement,
He never studied, for he knew it all. Day by day, the other student,
The one who studied day and night, grew more unhappy in his own
Studies. So self-dissatisfied was he with his pen and parchment.
He read his notes over and over till he ached in his bones.
He wished for knowledge to make him smart and bright,
As he sat at his desk reviewing every piece of his work.
And after time, he grew to be more self-confident, despite
The pressures of the genius new grey-eyed clerk.
And that one, oh what a fool was he! Never a book was opened
Or pen touched to parchment. He believed that he was best
And never would he be beaten. While the other's knowledge deepened,
This fellow, in his mind, remained calm and unstressed.
And finally the day came, of the biggest test of the year,
In which students competed one on one for the school's prize.
These two fellows against each other would appear,
One who studied and one who didn't- the one with grey eyes.
The questions came and the latter answered each
But few were said correctly, much to his shock and dismay.
After some time, the first began to remember and found his speech.
Each answer correct, ol' grey-eyes was soon outplayed.
And the winner was the one who studied hard each twilight,
Because he tried his best and learned to find confidence
Within his own abilities. He soon then left and said goodnight
To his opponent who thought himself to be smartest once."
"So my friends, don't think yourselves flawless.
The moral of my tale, I'm sure you'll agree:
'To be too dissatisfied with ourselves is a weakness.
To be too satisfied with ourselves is a stupidity.'
Maxim: "To be too dissatisfied with ourselves is a weakness. To be too satisfied with ourselves is a stupidity." -Madame de Sablè-