55
From al assaut of Phebus fervent fere,
Whiche in his spere so hote shoon and clere.
The eyre attempre, and the smothe wind
Of Zepherus, among the blossomes whyte,
So hoolsom was and norisshing by kind,
60
That smale buddes, and rounde blomes lyte
In maner gonnen of her brethe delyte
To yeve us hope that hir fruit shal take,