[THE BODDYNGE FLOURETTES BLOSHES ATTE THE LYGHTE] FYRSTE MYNSTRELLE The boddynge flourettes bloshes atte the lyghte; The mees be sprenged wyth the yellowe hue; Ynn daiseyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte; The nesh yonge coweslepe blendethe wyth the dewe; The trees enlefèd, yntoe Heavenne straughte, Whenn gentle wyndes doe blowe to whestlyng dynne ys brought.

[THE BODDYNGE FLOURETTES BLOSHES ATTE THE LYGHTE] FYRSTE MYNSTRELLE The boddynge flourettes bloshes atte the lyghte; The mees be sprenged wyth the yellowe hue; Ynn daiseyd mantels ys the mountayne dyghte; The nesh yonge coweslepe blendethe wyth the dewe; The trees enlefèd, yntoe Heavenne straughte, Whenn gentle wyndes doe blowe to whestlyng dynne ys brought.

The evenynge commes, and brynges the dewe alonge; The roddie welkynne sheeneth to the eyne; Arounde the alestake Mynstrells synge the songe; Yonge ivie rounde the doore poste do entwyne; I laie mee onn the grasse; yette, to mie wylle, Albeytte alle ys fayre, there lackethe somethynge stylle.

Daunce ne moe atte hallie daie; Lycke a reynynge ryver bee: Mie love ys dedde, Gon to hys death-bedde, Al under the wyllowe tree.

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.

lyes bie the wyllowe tree: Mie love ys dedde, Gonne to hys deathe-bedde, Alle underre the wyllowe tree.

the dethe-owle loude dothe synge, To the nyghte-mares as heie goe: Mie love ys dedde, Gonne 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.

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.

Heere, uponne mie true loves grave, Schalle the baren fleurs be layde, Nee one hallie Seyncte to save Al the celness of a mayde: Mie love ys dedde, Gonne to hys deathe-bedde, Alle under the wyllowe tree.

Wythe mie hondes I'lle dente the brieres Rounde his hallie corse to gre; Ouphante fairie, lyghte youre fyres, Heere mie boddie stylle schalle bee: Mie love ys dedde, Gon to hys death-bedde, Al under the wyllowe tree.

Comme, wythe acorne-coppe and thorne Drayne mie hartys blodde awaie; Lyfe and all yttes goode I scorne, Daunce bie nete, or feaste by dale: Mie love ys dedde, Gon to hys death-bedde, Al under the wyllowe tree.

" A famous spring lyric beginning: "Lenten ys come with love to toune, With blosmen ant with briddes roune.

"A payne ys made that no person or persons that shall brewe any weddyn ale to sell, shall not brewe aboue twelve stryke of mault at the most, and that the said persons so marryed shall not keep nor haue above eyght messe of persons at hys dinner within the burrowe, and before hys brydall daye he shall keep no unlawfull games in hys house nor out of hys house on payne of 20s.

Till the seventeenth century, the possessive case was written without the apostrophe; being formed at different times, in es, is, ys, or s, like the plural; and apparently without rule or uniformity in respect to the doubling of the final consonant: as Goddes, Godes, Godis, Godys, or Gods, for God's; so mannes, mannis, mannys or mans, for man's.

"Thah mi tonge were made of stel, Ant min herte yzote of bras, The goodness myht y never telle, That with kyng Edward was: Kyng, as thou art cleped conquerour, In uch battaille thou hadest prys; God bringe thi soule to the honour, That ever wes ant ever ys.

Arst he adde at Rome ybe, and, vor ys grete wysdom, The pope Leo hym blessede, tho he thuder com, And the kynges croune of hys lond, that in this lond gut ys: And he led hym to be kyng, ar he kyng were y wys.

" "Clere he was god ynou, and gut, as me telleth me, He was more than ten ger old, ar he couthe ys abece.

Ac ys gode moder ofte smale gyftes hym tok, Vor to byleue other pie, and loky on ys boke.

So that by por clergye ys rygt lawes he wonde, That neuere

er nere y mad to gouerny ys lond.

For the love of me; Ys woundes waxen wete, thei wepen, still and mete, Marie reweth me.

Thus the plural termination en has become entirely obsolete; th or eth is no longer in common use; ed is contracted in pronunciation; the ancient ys or is, of the third person singular, is changed to s or es, and is usually added without increase of syllables; and st or est has, in part, adopted the analogy.

Short form Ys.

PASSING THE DOOM OF YS TIME'S GARDEN THE COMING OF LOVE PREMONITION THE CHILD INTRUSION THE SEA'S WITHHOLDING LOVE