May — His Love of Daisies. 125 



especially when he could count upon seeing plenty of 

 daisies, the flower he loved before all others. 



* Of all the floures in the mede 



Than love I most these floures white and rede, 

 Soch that men callen daisies in our town ; 

 To hem I have so great affection, 

 As I said erst, whan comen is the May, 

 That in my bed there daweth me no day 

 That I nam up and walking in the mede, 

 To see this floure ayenst the Sunne sprede, 

 Whan it upriseth early by the morow 

 That blissful sight softeneth all my sorow.' 



In some verses that follow soon after these we have 

 an account of the poet's own way of observing Nature ; 

 and notwithstanding the intensity of the modern passion 

 for natural beauty, it may be doubted whether there 

 exists in any writer of the eighteenth and nineteenth 

 centuries any passage so full of the true feeling as 

 this is : — 



* My busie gost, that thirsteth alway newe 



To seen this flower so yong, so fresh of hewe, 

 Constrained me, with so greedy desire, 

 That in my herte I fele yet the fire 

 That made me rise ere it were day, 

 And this was now the first morow of May, 

 With dreadfull herte, and glad devotion 

 For to been at the resurrection 

 Of this floure, whan that it should unclose 

 Again the Sunne that rose as redd as rose, 

 And downe on knees ano?i right I me sette ; 

 And as I could this fresh floure I grette, 

 Kneeling alway y till it unclosed was 



