Huere hure a nyht hue nome,
He that furst ant last come,

a peny brod ant bryht; This other swore alle ant some, That er were come with lome, that so nes hit nout ryht; Ant swore somme unsaht, That hem wes werk by-taht, longe er hit were lyht; For ryht were that me raht, The mon that al day wraht, the more mede a nyht.

Thenne seith he y-wis,

"Why, nath nout uch mon his ?

holdeth nou or pees;

A-way, thou art unwis

Tak al that thin ys.

ant fare ase foreward wees.

zef y may betere beode, To mi latere leode,

to leve nam y nout lees, To alle that ever hider eode, To do to day my neode,

ichulle be wraththe-lees."

LENTEN ys come with love to toune, With blosmen ant with briddes roune, that al this blisse bryngeth;

Dayes-ezes in this dales,

Notes suete of nyhtegales,

uch foul song singeth.

The threstelcoc him threteth oo,

A-way is huere wynter wo,

when woderove springeth;

This foules singeth ferly fele,
Ant wlyteth on huere wynter wele,

that al the wode ryngeth.

The rose rayleth hire rode,
The leves on the lyhte wode

waxen al with wille;

The mone mandeth hire bleo,
The lilie is lossom to seo,

the fenyl ant the fille ; Wowes this wilde drakes, Miles murgeth huere makes,

ase strem that striketh stille Mody meneth, so doh mo, Ichot ycham on of tho,

for love that likes ille.

;

The mone mandeth hire lyht,
So doth the semly sonne bryht,
when briddes singeth breme;
Deowes donketh the dounes,
Deores with huere derne rounes,

domes forte deme;

Wormes woweth under cloude, Wymmen waxeth wounder proude,

so wel hit wol hem seme.

zef me shal wonte wille of on, This wunne weole y wole for-gon,

ant wyht in wode be fleme.

XIV.

[Fol. 71, vo.]

IN May hit murgeth when hit dawes, In dounes with this dueres plawes, ant lef is lyht on lynde;

Blosmes bredeth on the bowes,
Al this wylde wyhtes wowes,

so wel ych under-fynde.

Y not non so freoli flour,

Ase ledies that beth bryht in boure,
with love who mihte hem bynde;
So worly wymmen are by west;
One of hem ich herie best,

Fom Irlond in to Ynde.

Wymmen were the beste thing,

That shup oure heze hevene kyng, 3ef feole false nere;

Heo beoth to rad upon huere red,

To love ther me hem lastes bed, when heo shule fenge fere;

Lut in londe are to leve,

Thah me hem trewe trouthe zeve,

for tricherie to zere;

When trichour hath is trouthe y-plyht, By-swyken he hath that suete wyht,

thah he hire othes swere.

Wymmon, war the with the swyke,
That feir ant freoly ys to fyke,
ys fare is o to founde;

So wyde in world ys huere won,
In uch a toune untrewe is on,
from Leycestre to Lounde.
Of treuthe nis the trichour noht,
Bote he habbe is wille y-wroht,

at stevenyng umbe stounde;
Ah feyre levedis be on-war,
To late cometh the zeyn char,
when love ou hath y-bounde.

Wymmen bueth so feyr on hewe,
Ne trowy none that nere trewe,
zef trichour hem ne tahte;
Ah feyre thinges freoly bore,

When me on woweth, beth war bifore,

whuch is worldes ahte.

Al to late is send azeyn,

When the ledy liht by leyn,

ant lyveth by that he lahte; Ah wolde lylie leor in lyn Y-here lovely lores myn,

with selthe we weren sahte.