II.
Then the soft winds of summer, 516
After þe sesoun of somer wyth þe soft wyndeȝ,
Quen ȝeferus syfleȝ hym-self on sedeȝ & erbeȝ,
Wela-wynne is þe wort þat woxes þer-oute.
When þe donkande dewe dropeȝ of þe leueȝ,
To bide a blysful blusch of þe bryȝt sunne.
Bot þen hyȝes heruest, & hardenes hym sone.
Warneȝ hym for þe wynter to wax ful rype;
He dryues wyth droȝt þe dust for to ryse.
Fro þe face of þe folde to flyȝe ful hyȝe;
Wroþe wynde of þe welkyn wrasteleȝ with þe sunne,
Þe leueȝ lancen fro þe lynde, & lyȝten on þe grounde,
& al grayes þe gres, þat grene watȝ ere;
Þenne al rypeȝ & roteȝ þat ros vpon fyrst,
& þus ȝirneȝ þe ȝere in ȝisterdayeȝ mony,
& wynter wyndeȝ aȝayn, as þe worlde askeȝ
no sage.
Til meȝel-mas mone,
Watȝ cumen wyth wynter wage;
Þen þenkkeȝ Gawan ful sone,
Of his anious uyage.