An Ȝeres Tale


 * Wintre wiþ his colde is ycomen,
 * Haþ his tide, long, wel yſeten,
 * And men afolde muche undergon,
 * For hou long ȝet gon?


 * And whanne men yfroſen arn,
 * Winter ſooþe nimeþ hire barn,
 * And after whanne winter geþ,
 * ʆchullen ſeen þat he hem glad deþ.


 * Ac man ſeeþ nat, ne willen,
 * And for sumer an bitte liven,
 * Ne þynken of cherringe wintre,
 * Nauþer of herveſt, muche derkre.


 * Alſwo menniſche on erþe liveþ,
 * Half ȝeres ſeyen þat he ſad is,
 * Forþen þat ſumer ferre ygon is,
 * On oþre eke, for wintre cumeþ.