Now, god of love, thou help me in som wyse
215
That I may on this Cukkow been awreke!'
Me thoughte than, that I sterte up anon,
And to the broke I ran, and gat a stoon,
And at the Cukkow hertely I caste;
And he, for drede, fley away ful faste;
220
And glad was I when that he was a-goon.