Worschippe, ye that loveris bene this May,For of your blisse the kalendis are begonne,And sing with us, “away, winter, away!Cum, somer, cum, the suete sesoun and sonne!”
blisse, sing, us, away, winter, sonne
In a somer seson, whan softe was the sonne,I shoop me into shroudes as I a sheep were,In habite as an heremite unholy of werkes,Wente wide in this world wondres to here.Ac on a May morwenynge on Malverne hillesMe bifel a ferly, of Fairye me thoghte.
seson, whan, softe, shoop, me, shroudes, sheep, habite, heremite
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