And the gras that was dry greened belive.
Others, according to their quaint fashion, mixed up English and Latin rhymes in a style which, barbarous as it is, is certainly not deficient in harmony. One little poem, ascribed to a writer in the reign of Henry III., commences thus:—
Of all that is so fayr and bright,
Velut maris Stella;
Brighter than the day is light,
Parens et puella.
I crie to The, Thou se to me,
Levedy, preye the Sone for me,
Tam pia,
That Ich mote come to The,