Erly in a May mornyng,

The son vp feyre can shyne,

And the briddis mery can syng.

4

‘This is a mery mornyng,’ seid Litull John,

‘Be hym þat dyed on tre;

A more mery man þen I am one

Lyves not in Cristiantë.

5

‘Pluk vp þi hert, my dere mayster,’