Withouten spotte of blacke encombremente
Aboute oure fete it dyde ryghte clerely shyne;
It semed more lyke a place celestyne,
Than an erthly mansion, whiche shall away
By longe tyme and proces an other day.
And towarde me I dyde se than comynge
La Belle Pucell, the moost fayre creature
Of ony fayre erthely person lyvyng,
Whiche with me mette with chere so demure.
Of the shynynge golde was all her vesture;