She lady was of the company.
And she began a roundell lustely,
That “Suse le foyle, devers moy,” men call,
“Siene et mon joly couer est endormy,”
And than the company answered all
With voices sweet entuned, and so small,
That me thought it the sweetest melody
That ever I heard in my life soothly.
And thus they came, dauncing and singing,
Into the middes of the mede echone,