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From the Legend of Good Women OF all the floures in the mede, | |
| Than love I most these floures white and rede, | |
| Soch that men callen daisies in our town; | |
| To hem I have so great affection, | |
| As I said erst, when comen is the May, | 5 |
| That in my bedde there daweth me no day | |
| That I nam 1 up and walking in the mede, | |
| To seene this flour ayenst the Sunne sprede, | |
| Whan it up riseth early by the morrow. | |
| That blissful sight softeneth all my sorrow, | 10 |
| So glad am I, whan that I have the presence | |
| Of it, to done it all reverence, | |
| And ever I love it, and ever ylike newe, | |
| And ever shall, till that mine herte die | |
| All swere I not, of this I will not lie. * * * * * | 15 |
| My busie gost, that thursteth alway newe, | |
| To seen this flour so yong, so fresh of hew, | |
| Constrained me, with so greedy desire, | |
| That in my herte I fele yet the fire, | |
| That made me rise ere it were day, | 20 |
| And this was now the first morow of May, | |
| With dreadful 2 herte, and glad devotion | |
| For to been at the resurrection | |
| Of this floure, whan that it should unclose | |
| Againe the Sunne, that rose as redde as rose. | 25 |
| And doune on knees anon right I me sette, | |
| And as I could, this fresh floure I grette, | |
| Kneeling alway, till it unclosed was, | |
| Upon the small, soft, swete gras, | |
| That was with floures swete embrouded all, | 30 |
| Of such swetenesse, and such odour overall | |
| That for to speke of gomme, herbe, or tree, | |
| Comparison may not ymaked be, | |
| For it surmounteth plainly all odoures, | |
| And of rich beaute of floures. | 35 |
| And Zephirus, and Flora gentelly, | |
| Yave to these floures soft and tenderly, | |
| His swote 3 breth, and made him for to sprede, | |
| As god and goddesse of the flourie mede, | |
| In which me thoughte I might day by day, | 40 |
| Dwellen alway, the joly month of May, | |
| Withouten slepe, withouten meat or drinke: | |
| Adoune full softly I gan to sinke, | |
| And leaning on my elbow and my side, | |
| The long day I shope me for to abide, | 45 |
| For nothing els, and I shall nat lie, | |
| But for to looke upon the daisie, | |
| That well by reason men it call may | |
| The daisie, or els the eye of the day, | |
| The empress and floure of floures all, | 50 |
| I pray to God that faire mote she fall, | |
| And all that loven floures for her sake. | |