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This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, Til it fil ones, in a morwe of May, That Emelye, that fairer was to sene Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, And fressher than the May with floures newe— For with the rose colour stroof hir hewe, I noot which was the fairer of hem two— Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, She was arisen, and al redy dight; For May wol have no slogardye a-night. The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, And maketh him out of his sleep to sterte, And seith, ‘Arys, and do thyn observaunce.’ This maked Emelye have remembraunce To doon honour to May, and for to ryse. Y-clothed was she fresh, for to devyse; Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse, Bihinde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse. And in the gardin, at the sonne up-riste, She walketh up and doun, and as hir liste She gadereth floures, party whyte and rede, To make a sotil gerland for hir hede, And as an aungel hevenly she song. This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, Til it fil ones, in a morwe of May, That Emelye, that fairer was to sene Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, And fressher than the May with floures newe— For with the rose colour stroof hir hewe, I noot which was the fairer of hem two— Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, She was arisen, and al redy dight; For May wol have no slogardye a-night. The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, And maketh him out of his sleep to sterte, And seith, ‘Arys, and do thyn observaunce.’ This maked Emelye have remembraunce To doon honour to May, and for to ryse. Y-clothed was she fresh, for to devyse; Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse, Bihinde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse. And in the gardin, at the sonne up-riste, She walketh up and doun, and as hir liste She gadereth floures, party whyte and rede, To make a sotil gerland for hir hede, And as an aungel hevenly she song.

Original Text

Modern Text

This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, Til it fil ones, in a morwe of May, That Emelye, that fairer was to sene Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, And fressher than the May with floures newe— For with the rose colour stroof hir hewe, I noot which was the fairer of hem two— Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, She was arisen, and al redy dight; For May wol have no slogardye a-night. The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, And maketh him out of his sleep to sterte, And seith, ‘Arys, and do thyn observaunce.’ This maked Emelye have remembraunce To doon honour to May, and for to ryse. Y-clothed was she fresh, for to devyse; Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse, Bihinde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse. And in the gardin, at the sonne up-riste, She walketh up and doun, and as hir liste She gadereth floures, party whyte and rede, To make a sotil gerland for hir hede, And as an aungel hevenly she song. This passeth yeer by yeer, and day by day, Til it fil ones, in a morwe of May, That Emelye, that fairer was to sene Than is the lilie upon his stalke grene, And fressher than the May with floures newe— For with the rose colour stroof hir hewe, I noot which was the fairer of hem two— Er it were day, as was hir wone to do, She was arisen, and al redy dight; For May wol have no slogardye a-night. The sesoun priketh every gentil herte, And maketh him out of his sleep to sterte, And seith, ‘Arys, and do thyn observaunce.’ This maked Emelye have remembraunce To doon honour to May, and for to ryse. Y-clothed was she fresh, for to devyse; Hir yelow heer was broyded in a tresse, Bihinde hir bak, a yerde long, I gesse. And in the gardin, at the sonne up-riste, She walketh up and doun, and as hir liste She gadereth floures, party whyte and rede, To make a sotil gerland for hir hede, And as an aungel hevenly she song.
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