Bot look auay, and len thame ay your eir.
For, folou love, they say, and it will flie.
Wald ye be lovd, this lessone mon ye leir[1516];
Flie vhylome[1517] love, and it will folou thee.
[TO HIS MAISTRES.]
Bright amorous ee vhare Love in ambush [lyes]—
Cleir cristall tear distilde at our depairt[1518]
Sueet secreit sigh more peircing nor a dairt—
Inchanting voce, beuitcher of the wyse—