Whan I your beautye do so well decerne
Ye set myn hert vpon a brennynge fyre
With feruent loue to come to my desyre
To me she answered in this wyse
O my dere herte my spouse so pure
Why do ye not on your fete aryse
You of my true loue shall be sure
For ye my hert haue now in cure
Lete vs go now to our fader reuerente
So forthe vnto hym than we wente