And therewith kest I doun myn eye ageyne, Quhare as I sawe, walking under the tour, Full secretly new cummyn hir to pleyne, The fairest or the fresch… - James I of Scotland

The cristall water ran so clere and cold,
That in myn ere maid contynualy
A maner soun, mellit with armony,
That full of lytill fischis by the brym
Now here now there with bakkis blewe as lede
Lap and playit, and in a rout can swym
So prattily, and dressit tham to sprede
Thair curall fynnis as the ruby rede,
That in the sonne on thair scalis bryght
As gesserant ay glitterit in my sight.

So ferr I fallyng into lufis dance,
That sodeynly my wit, my contenance,
My hert, my will, my nature and my mynd,
Was changit clene ryght in anothir kynd.

Worschippe, ye that loveris bene this May,
For of your blisse the kalendis are begonne,
And sing with us, “away, winter, away!
Cum, somer, cum, the suete sesoun and sonne!”