text:  Thus passeth yere by yere and day by day Till it felle ones in a morwe of May That Emelie that fayrer was to sene Than is the lilie upon the stalke grene And fressher than the May with floures newe (For with the rose colour strof hire hewe; I n'ot which was the finer of hem two) Er it was day as she was wont to do She was arisen and all redy dight For May wol have no slogardie a-night