The fend in fyht us fynt so feynt,

we falleth so flour when hit is frore,
for folkes fader al fleme;

Wo him wes y-warpe zore,
that Crist nul nowyht queme!

To queme Crist we weren y-core, ant kend ys craftes forte knowe; Leve we nout we buen for-lore,

in lustes thah we lyggen lowe; We shule aryse ur fader byfore,

thah fon us fallen umbe throwe, To borewen us alle he wes y-bore, this bounyng when him bemes blowe, he byt us buen of hyse;

Ant on ys ryht hond hente rowe, wyth ryhtwyse men to aryse.

V.

[Fol. 63, ro.]

ICHOT a burde in a bour ase beryl so bryht,
Ase saphyr in selver semly on syht,
Ase jaspe the gentil that lemeth with lylt,
Ase gernet in golde, ant ruby wel ryht,

Ase onycle he ys on y-holden on hyht,
Ase diamaunde the dere in day when he is dyht,
He is coral y-cud with cayser ant knyht,

Ase emeraude a-morewen this may haveth myht. The myht of the margarite haveth this may mere, For charbocle ich hire ches bi chyn ant by chere.

Hire rode is ase rose that red is on rys,
With lilye-white leres lossum he is,

The primerole he passeth, the parvenke of pris,
With alisaundre thare-to, ache ant anys,
Coynte ase columbine, such hire cunde ys,
Glad under gore in gro ant in grys,

He is blosme opon bleo brihtest under bis,
With celydoyne ant sauge, ase thou thi self sys.
That syht upon that semly, to blis he is broht,
He is solsecle, to sanne ys for-soht.

He is papejai in pyn that beteth me my bale,
To trewe tortle in a tour, y telle the mi tale,
He is thrustle thryven in thro that singeth in sale,
The wilde laveroc ant wolc ant the wodewale,
He is faucoun in friht dernest in dale,
Ant with everuch a gome gladest in gale,
From Weye he is wisist into Wyrhale,
Hire nome is in a note of the nyhtegale.
In annote is hire nome, nempneth hit non,
Whose ryht redeth ronne to Johon.

Muge he is ant mondrake, thouh miht of the mone, Trewe triacle y-told with tonges in trone,

Such licoris mai leche from lyve to lone,

Such sucre mon secheth that saveth men sone,

Blithe y-blessed of Crist that bayeth me mi bone,
When derne dede is in dayne derne are done,
Ase gromyl in grene grene is the grone,
Ase quibibe ant comyn cud is in crone.
Cud comyn in court, canel in cofre,

With gyngyvre ant sedewale ant the gylofre.

He is Medierne of miht, mercie of mede,
Rekene ase Regnas resoun to rede,

Trewe ase Tegen in tour, ase Wyrwein in wede,
Baldore then Byrne that of the bor bede,

Ase Wylcadoun he is wys, dohty of dede,
Feyrore then Floyres folkes to fede,

Cud ase Cradoc in court carf the brede,
Hendore then Hilde that haveth me to hede.
He haveth me to hede this hendy a-non,
Gentil ase Jonas, he joyeth with Jon.

VI.

[Fol. 63, vo.]

BYTUENE Mershe ant Averil

when spray biginneth to springe,
The lutel foul hath hire wyl

on hyre lud to synge;
Ich libbe in love-longinge
For semlokest of alle thynge,
He may me blisse bringe,

icham in hire baundoun.

An hendy hap ichabbe y-hent,
Ichot from hevene it is me sent,

From alle wymmen mi love is lent
ant lyht on Alysoun.

On heu hire her is fayr y-noh,

hire browe broune, hire езе blake; With lossum chere he on me loh ; with middel smal ant wel y-make;

Bote he me wolle to hire take,
Forte buen hire owen make,
Longe to lyven ichulle forsake,
ant feye fallen a-doun.

An hendy hap, etc.

Nihtes when

y

wende ant wake,

for-thi myn wonges waxeth won; Levedi, al for thine sake

longinge is y-lent me on.

In world nis non so wyter-mon
That al hire bounté telle con ;

Hire

swyre is whittore then the swon,

ant feyrest may in toune.

An hendy, etc.

Icham for wowyng al for-wake,

wery so water in wore;

Lest eny reve me my make,

ychabbe y-3yrned zore.

Betere is tholien whyle sore,

Then mournen evermore.

Geynest under gore,

herkne to my roune.

An hendi, etc.

VII.

[Fol. 63, vo.]

WITH longyng y am lad,
On molde y waxe mad,
a maide marreth me;
Y grede, y grone, un-glad,
For selden y am sad

that semly forte se;

levedi, thou rewe me,

To routhe thou havest me rad;

Be bote of that y bad,

My lyf is long on the.

Levedy, of alle londe
Les me out of bonde,

broht icham in wo,

Have resting on honde,
Ant sent thou me thi sonde,

sone, er thou me slo;

my reste is with the ro: Thah men to me han onde, To love nuly noht wonde, ne lete for non of tho.