Lenten ys come with love to toune,
With blossom and with brides roune.
That al this blysse bringeth!
The Rose raileth hire rode,
The leves on the lyhte wode
Waxen al with wille
The moone mandeth hire lyhte
So doth the semly sonne bryte,
When briddes singeth breme
The foule singeth ferly fele
Wiyteth on huere wynne wele,
That al the wode ryngeth.