The Lay of the Bird
Once upon a time, a hundred years and more agone, there lived a rich villein; his name I know not for certain, but he was rich as beseemeth a great lord in woodland, stream and meadow, and in whatsoever else longeth to a puissant man. And to tell you the sum thereof, his manor was so goodly no town, or burg, or castle hath its like, for to tell you true, in all the world is none other so fair and delectable; and if any were to show you its form and fashion, the tale would seem to you but fable, for none, methinketh, could ever make such a keep, or so mighty a tower. Round about it ran a river, encircling all the close, that the orchard, which was of great price, was all walled in by wood and water. Wise was the gentle knight who contrived it, but from him it went to his son, who sold it to this villein; so passed it from hand to hand: and wit ye well, an ill heir ofttimes bringeth thorpe and manor into dishonour.
Fair as man can desire was that orchard, and therein grew many an herb whose name I know not; yet may I tell you of a truth there were roses and flowers that gave forth a strong and pleasant fragrance; and such manner of spices grew there that if any creature, suffering from sickness and infirmity, were brought thither in a litter, and lay in that orchard but for the space of a single night, he would go forth healed and strong; so rich it was in goodly herbs. And the meadow was so level even that in it was neither hill nor hollow, and all the tree-tops were of one height; no other orchard close so fair was there in all the world. Ask ye not of its fruit, for none such shall ye find; but in the garden they ripened in every season. Wise was he who contrived it, and by enchantment he wrought it, whereof within was many a proof.
Full great was the orchard and wide, like a round ring in its form; and in its midst was a fountain whose waters were clear and fresh, and ran so swiftly they seemed to boil in fury, yet was it colder than marble. A goodly tree gave shade there, wide reaching were the branches and cunningly trained; good store of leaves there were, for in the longest day of summer, when came the month of May, ye could not see a ray of the sun, so leafy was it. Full dear should that tree be held, for its kind was such that it kept its leaves in all seasons, and neither wind nor storm had might to strip its bark or its branches.
Pleasant and delectable was that green tree; and to it twice each day, and no more, came a bird to sing, in the morning namely, and again at eventide. So wondrous fair was the bird it were over long to tell you all its fashion. More small it was than the sparrow, yet somewhat greater than the wren, and it sang so sweetly and fairly that know ye of a sooth, not nightingale, nor merle, nor mavis, nor starling, methinketh, nor voice of lark or calender, were so good to hear as was its song. And it was so ready with refrains and lays and songs and new tunes, that harp, or viol, or rebec were as nought beside it. So wondrous was its song that never before was its like heard of living man, for such was its virtue that no man might be so sorrowful, but if he heard it sing, he must straightway rejoice, and forget all heaviness and grief; and though he had never before spoken of love, now was he kindled by it, and deemed himself worshipful as king or emperor, though he were but villein or burgess; and even had he passed his hundredth year, if, as he yet lingered in the world, he heard the song of the bird, he deemed himself then but as a youth and a stripling, and so comely, he must be loved of ladies and maids and damsels. But yet another wondrous virtue had it; for that orchard might not endure, if the bird came not thither to sing its sweet refrain; for out of song issueth love, which giveth their virtue to flower and tree and coppice; whereas, if the bird were gone, the orchard would straightway wither, and the fountain run dry, for that they kept their virtue only by reason of the song.