Balade

Hyd, Absolon, thy gilte tresses clere;

Ester, ley thou thy meknesse al a-doun;

Hyd, Jonathas, al thy frendly manere;

Penalopee, and Marcia Catoun,

Mak of your wyfhod no comparisoun;

Hyde ye your beautes, Isoude and Eleyne;

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.

Thy faire body, lat hit nat appere,

Lavyne; and thou, Lucresse of Rome toun,

And Polixene, that boghten love so dere,

And Cleopatre, with al thy passioun,

Hyde ye your trouthe of love and your renoun;

And thou, Tisbe, that hast of love swich peyne;

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.

Herro, Dido, Laudomia, alle y-fere,

And Phyllis, hanging for thy Demophoun,

And Canace, espyed by thy chere,

Ysiphile, betraysed with Jasoun,

Maketh of your trouthe neyther boost ne soun;

Nor Ypermistre or Adriane, ye tweyne;

My lady cometh, that al this may disteyne.