In somer, that swete tyde:
Ne is no queen so stark and stour,
Ne is no Ladye so bright in bower,
That ded ne schal by glyde:
Whoso wot flesh lust forgo, and heven’s blysse abyde
On Jhesu, be is thought anon, that therled[301] was in ys syde.
I will give but one fragment more, which is taken from a sort of dialogue between our Lord on the Cross and the devout soul:—
Behold mi side
Mi woundes spred so wide
Restless I ride,