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

Dubbed wern alle þo downeȝ sydeȝ
Wyth crystal klyffeȝ so cler of kynde.
Holtewodeȝ bryȝt aboute hem bydeȝ
Of bolleȝ as blwe as ble of Ynde;
As bornyst syluer þe lef on slydeȝ,
Þat þike con trylle on vch a tynde.
Quen glem of glodeȝ agaynȝ hem glydeȝ,
Wyth schymeryng schene ful schrylle þay schynde.

For werre wrathed hym not so much þat wynter nas wors,
When þe colde cler water fro þe cloudez schadde,
And fres er hit falle myȝt to þe fale erþe;
Ner slayn wyth þe slete he sleped in his yrnes
Mo nyȝtez þen innoghe in naked rokkez,
Þer as claterande fro þe crest þe colde borne rennez,
And henged heȝe ouer his hede in hard iisse-ikkles.

And also an oþer maner meued him eke,
Þat he þurȝ nobelay had nomen he wolde neuer ete
Upon such a dere day er hym deuised were
Of sum auenturus þyng an vncouþe tale
Of sum mayn meruayle þat he myȝt trawe
Of of alderes of armes of oþer auenturus.