Averil

When the nightegale singes

And the wodes waxen grene

Lef and grass and blosme springes

In Averil, I wene

Love is to min herte gon

With one spere so kene

Night and day my blod it drinkes

Min herte deth me tene

Ich have loved all this year

That I may love namore

Ich have siked mony sik

Lemmon, for thin ore

Me nis love never the ner

And that me reweth sore

Swete lemmon, thench on me

Ich have loved thee yore

Swete lemmon, I preye thee

Of love one speche

Whil I live in world so wide

Other nulle I seche

With thy love, my swete leof

My bliss thou mightest eche

A swete cos of thy mouth

Mighte be my leche

Swete lemmon, I preye thee

Of a love-bene