The Lillie white reigns queen of the floures
And Poppies a sanguine mantle spread,
For the blood of the dragon S. Margaret shed,
Then under the wanton Rose agen,
That blushes for penitent Magdalen,
Till Lammas Daie, called August’s Wheel,
When the long Corn smells of Cammomile.
When Marie left us here belowe,
The Virgin’s Bower is full in blowe;
And yet anon the full Sunflower blew,