for wantinge of privy wordes, but paradyse terrestre ful of delicious
melody, withouten travayle in sown, perpetual service in ful joye
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coveyted to endure. Only kynde maketh hertes in understonding
so to slepe, that otherwyse may it nat be nempned, ne in other
maner names for lyking swetnesse can I nat it declare; al sugre
and hony, al minstralsy and melody ben but soot and galle in
comparison, by no maner proporcion to reken, in respect of this
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blisful joye. This armony, this melody, this perdurable joye may