†Than love I most these floures whyte and rede,
†Swiche as men callen daysies in our toun.
†To hem have I so greet affeccioun,
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†As I seyde erst, whan comen is the May,
†That in my bed ther daweth me no day
†That I nam up, and walking in the mede
To seen these floures agein the sonne sprede,
Whan hit up-riseth by the morwe shene,
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