XXX.

And for to walk that freshë Mayë's morrow,

A hook she had upon her tissue white,

That goodlier had not been seen toforrow,[13]

As I suppose, and girt she, was a lite[14]

Thus halfling[15] loose for haste; to such delight

It was to see her youth in goodlihead,

That for rudeness to speak thereof I dread.

Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets, Volume 1 · 第 61 / 326 题