Blacke hys cryne as the wyntere nyghte, Whyte hys rode as the sommer snowe, Rodde hys face as the mornynge lyghte; Cale he lyes ynne the grave belowe: Mie love ys dedde, Gon to hys deathe-bedde, Al under the wyllowe tree.

the whyte moone sheenes onne hie; Whyterre ys mie true loves shroude, Whyterre yanne the mornynge skie, Whyterre yanne the evenynge cloude: Mie love ys dedde, Gon to hys deathe-bedde, Al under the wyllowe tree.