What thoughe? quod he, draw you not abacke,
For she hath inough in her possession
For you both; for you shal never lacke
If that ye order it by good reason;
And so, in perfite consyderacyon,
She wyll wyth love her grene flouryng age
Passe forth in joye, pleasure, and courage.
Youth is alway of the course ryght lyght,
Hote, and moyste, and full of lustines,
Moost of the ayre it is ruled by ryght,