Bot of alle þat here bult, of Bretaygne kynges, Ay watz Arthur þe hendest, as I haf herde telle. - Pearl poet

Allas! I leste hyr in on erbere;
Þurȝ gresse to grounde hit fro me yot.
I dewyne, fordolked of luf-daungere
Of þat pryuy perle wythouten spot.

We lorde quoþ þe gentyle knyȝt
Wheþer þis be þe grene chapelle?
He myȝt aboute mydnyȝt
Þe dele his matynnes telle.

The dubbement dere of doun and daleȝ,
Of wod and water and wlonk playneȝ,
Bylde in me blys, abated my baleȝ,
Fordidden my stresse, dystryed my payneȝ.
Doun after a strem þat dryȝly haleȝ
I bowed in blys, bredful my brayneȝ;
Þe fyrre I folȝed þose floty valeȝ,
Þe more strenghþe of ioye myn herte strayneȝ.