3010
So fresshe spronge out of the rote.
And Bialacoil me served wel,
Whan I so nygh me mighte fele
Of the botoun the swete odour,
And so lusty hewed of colour.
3015
But than a cherl (foule him bityde!)
Bisyde the roses gan him hyde,
To kepe the roses of that roser,