IN PRAISE OF GARDENS 



Myrthe had done come through condyse; 

 Of vvhiche the water in rennyng 

 Gan make a noyse ful lykyng. 



About the brinkes of these welles 

 And by the streme over al elles 

 Spronge up the grasse, as thicke y-set 

 And softe as any veluet, 

 On whiche men myght his lemmon lay 

 As on a fetherbed to pley, 

 For the erthe was ful softe and swete 

 Through moisture of the welle wete 

 Spronge up the sote grene gras 

 As fayre, as thicke, as myster was. 

 But moche amended it the place 

 That therthe was of suche a grace 

 That it of floures hath plente, 

 That bothe in somer and wynter be. 

 There sprange the vyolet al newe, 

 And fresshe pervynke riche of hewe, 

 And floures yelowe, white and rede, 

 Suche plente grewe there never in mede. 

 Ful gaye was al the grounde, and queynt 

 And poudred, as men had it peynt 

 With many a fresshe and sondrie floure, 

 That casten up ful good savour. 



[28] 



