HYDE AND SEEKE.
One day beneathe a willowe tree,
Love met a mayde moste faire to see;
“Come play at hyde and seeke,” cried he.
“With alle my hearte!”—quoth she.
“I’m it!” Love cries, and rounde hys eyes
A scarfe the maiden bindeth,
And inne and oute and rounde aboute
Ye willowe trees he windeth—
Yette ne’er the maiden findeth.