The Fields Have Eyes, And

Of Harmes Two The Lesse Is For To Cheese.

And Gladly Would He Learn, And Gladly Teach

Of Alle The Floures In The Mede, Than Love I Most These Floures Whyte And Rede, Swiche As Men Callen Daysies In Our Toun. . . . . Til That Myn Herte Dye. . . . . That Wel By Reson Men Hit Calle May The 'dayesye' Or Elles The 'ye Of Day,' The Emperice And Flour Of Floures Alle. I Pray To God That Faire Mot She Falle, And Alle That Loven Floures, For Hir Sake!

If Love Be Good, From Whence Cometh My Woe?

Yblessed Be God That I Have Wedded Fyve! Welcome The Sixte, Whan That Evere He Shal.