Now springes the spray 

All for love I am so seek 

That slepen I ne may 



Als I me rode this endre day 

O' my pleyinge 

Seih I whar a litel may 

Began to singe 

"The clot him clinge! 

Way as him I' love-longinge 

Shall libben ay!" 



Son I herde that mirye note 

Thider I drogh I fonde hire 

In an herber swot 

Under a bogh 

With joye enough 

Son I asked, "Thou mirue may 

Why singes tou ay?" 



Than answerde that maiden swote 

Midde wordes fewe 

"My lemman me haves bihot 

Of love trewe 

He changes anewe 

Yiif I may, it shall him rewe 

By this day!"