And evermore the Cukkow, as he fley,
He seyde, 'Farewel! farewel, papinjay!'
As though he hadde scorned, thoughte me;
But ay I hunted him fro tree to tree
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Til he was fer al out of sighte awey.
And thanne com the Nightingale to me,
And seyde, 'Frend, forsothe I thanke thee
That thou hast lyked me thus to rescowe;
And oon avow to Love I wol avowe,