The General Prologue - The Plowman

With him there was a plowman, was his brother
That many a load of dung, and many another
Had scattered, for a good true toiler, he,
Living in peace and perfect charity.
He loved God most, and that with his whole heart(5)
At all times, though he played or plied his art
And next, his neighbour, even as himself.
He’d thresh and dig, with never thought of pelf,
For Christ’s own sake, for every poor wight
All without pay, if it lay in his might.
He paid his taxes, fully, fairly, well,
Both by his own toil and by stuff he’d sell.
In a tabard he rode upon a mare.