blithely reunited for supper, which being served with all due care and
despatched, they rose up to dance, as they were wont, and when they had
sung, perhaps, a thousand ditties, fitter to please by their words than
by any excellence of musical art, the king bade Neifile sing one on her
own account. And promptly and graciously, with voice clear and blithe,
thus Neifile sang:--

In prime of maidenhood, and fair and feat
'Mid spring's fresh foison chant I merrily:
Thanks be to Love and to my fancies sweet.

As o'er the grassy mead I, glancing, fare,
I mark it white and yellow and vermeil dight
With flowers, the thorny rose, the lily white:
And all alike to his face I compare,
Who, loving, hath me ta'en, and me shall e'er
Hold bounden to his will, sith I am she
That in his will findeth her joy complete.

Whereof if so it be that I do find
Any that I most like to him approve,
That pluck I straight and kiss with words of love,
Discovering all, as, best I may, my mind;
Yea, all my heart's desire; and then entwined
I set it in the chaplet daintily,
And with my yellow tresses bind and pleat.

And as mine eyes do drink in the delight
Which the flower yields them, even so my mind,
Fired with his sweet love, doth such solace find,