In Aprell and in May
When hartes be all mery
Besse Bunting, the millaris may
Withe lippes so red as chery
She cast in hir remembrance
To passe hir time in daliance
And to leve hir thought driery
Right womanly arayd
In a peticote of whit
She was nothing dismayd
Hir countenance was full light

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