And was al his chiere, as in his herte.

Up roos the sonne, and up roose Emelye.

The smylere with the knyf under the cloke.

Upon his shuldres wynges hadde he two; And blynd he was, as it is often seene; A bowe he bar and arwes brighte and kene.

For pitee renneth soone in gentil herte.

That “feeld hath eyen, and the wode hath eres.” 9

Now up, now doun, as boket in a welle.

May, with alle thy floures and thy grene, Welcome be thou, faire, fresshe May.

The bisy larke, messager of day.

Ech man for hymself.