†Whan she was preysed so in hir presence.
†Than seyde Love, 'a ful gret negligence
Was hit to thee, that ilke tyme thou made
*"Hyd, Absolon, thy tresses," [in balade],
540
*That thou forgete hir in thy song to sette,
*Sin that thou art so gretly in hir dette,
And wost so wel, that [kalender] is she
*To any woman that wol lover be.
For she taughte al the craft of fyn lovinge,