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Herte \Her"te\, n. A heart. [Obs.]

Usage examples of "herte".

Herte University at Sjandra Kei should have been perfect for someone who had finally figured out what they wanted from life.

Til he so longe hadde wopen and compleyned, And many a yeer his service to me feyned, Til that myn herte, to pitous and to nyce, Al innocent of his corouned malice, For-fered of his deeth, as thoughte me, Upon hise othes and his seuretee, Graunted hym love up this condicioun That everemoore myn honour and renoun Were saved, bothe privee and apert.

To asken help thee shameth in thyn herte, If thou noon aske, so soore artow ywoundid That verray nede unwrappeth al thy wounde hid.

Til at the laste aslaked was his mood, For pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.

Hir thoughte hir cursed herte brast atwo, She wolde noght hir sone had do so, Hir thoughte a despit, that he sholde take So strange a creature unto his make.

Ther cam a privee theef men clepeth Deeth, That in this contree al the peple sleeth, And with his spere he smoot his herte atwo, And wente his wey withouten wordes mo.

This Phebus gan aweyward for to wryen, And thoughte his sorweful herte brast atwo, His bowe he bente and sette ther inne a flo, And in his ire his wyf thanne hath he slayn.

O bussh unbrent, brennynge in Moyses sighte, That ravysedest doun fro the deitee Thurgh thyn humblesse, the goost that in thalighte, Of whos vertu, whan he thyn herte lighte, Conceyved was the Fadres sapience, Help me to telle it in thy reverence.

And whan it fil that he myghte hire espye, He noght with wantowne lookyng of folye Hise eyen caste on hir, but in sad wyse, Upon hir chiere he wolde hym ofte avyse, Commendynge in his herte hir wommanhede And eek hir vertu, passynge any wight Of so yong age, as wel in chiere as dede.

He nyste what he spak, but thus he seyde: With pitous herte his pleynt hath he bigonne Unto the goddes, and first unto the sonne He seyde, "Appollo, God and governour Of every plaunte, herbe, tree, and flour That yevest after thy declinacioun To ech of hem his tyme and his sesoun, As thyn herberwe chaungeth lowe or heighe, Lord Phebus, cast thy mericiable eighe On wrecche Aurelie, which that am but lorn.

Myn herte may myne harmes nat biwreye, I am so confus that I kan noght seye.

She was so ful of torment and of rage That wilfully into the fyr she sterte, And brende hirselven with a stedefast herte.

And after that she of hir swough gan breyde, Right ibn hir hsukes ledene thus she seyde: "That pitee renneth soone in gentil herte, Fellynge his similitude in peynes smerte, Is preved al day, as men may it see, As wel by werk as by auctoritee.

But for noon hope for to fare the bet, But for to obeye unto youre herte free, And for to maken othere be war by me, As by the whelp chasted is the leoun, Right for that cause and that condlusioun Whil that I have a leyser and a space, Myn harm I wol confessen, er I pace.

Ayeyns his myght ther gayneth none obstacles, He may be cleped a god for hise myracles, For he kan maken at his owene gyse Of everich herte as that hym list divyse.