The assemblie of foules Here foloweth the assemble of foules veray pleasaunt and compendyous to rede or here compyled by the preclared and famous clerke Geffray Chaucer.

THe lyfe so shorte the crafte so longe to lerne The assay so hard so sharpe y^e cōquerynge The slyder ioye y^• alway slyd so yerne All this mene I by loue y^t my felynge Astonyeth so w^t dredefull workynge So sorey wys that whan I on hym thynke Not wote I well where that I wake or wynke.

For all be that I knowe not loue in dede Ne wote how he quyteth folke theyr hyre Yet happeth me in bokes ofte to rede Of his myracles and of his cruell yre There rede I well he wyll be lorde and syre Dare I not say his strokes ben so sore But god saue suche a lorde I can no more.

Of vsage what for luste what forlore On bokes rede I ofte as I you tolde But why that I spoke not all this yore Agon / it happed me for to beholde Vpon a boke was wryte with letters olde And there vpon a certayne thynge to lerne The longe day I radde full fast and yerne.

For out of olde feldes as men sayth Cometh all this newe corne fro yere to yere And out of olde bokes in good fayth Cometh all this newe scyence that men lere But now to purpose of my fyrst matere To rede forth gan me to delyte That all the day thought me but a lyte.

This boke of whiche I may make mencyon Entytuled was all there I shall you tell Tullius of the dreme of the Cypyon Chapytrees is had .vij. of heuen and hell And erthe and soules that therin dwell Of whiche as shortly as I can trete Of his sentence I wyll tell the grete.

Fyrst telleth it whan Cypyon was come Into Aufryke how he mette Messymysse That hym for ioye in armes hathe ynome Than telleth he her speche and all the blysse That was bytwene them tyll the day gan mysse And how his auncestre aufrycan so dere Gan on his slepe that nyght to hym appere.

¶Than tolde he hym that fro a sterry place How Aufrycan hathe hym cartage shewed And warned hym before all his grace And sayd to hym what man lerned or lewed That loueth comune profyte well ythewed He shall vnto a blysfull place wende There ioye is that lasteth without ende.

Than asked he yf the folke that here be dede Haue lyfe and dwellynge in an other place And Aufrycan sayd ye withoute drede And oure present worldes lyues space Meneth but a maner dethe what may we trace And ryghtfull folke shall go whan they dye To heuen / and shewed hym the galerye.

¶Than shewed he hym the lytell erthe that here is At regarde of heuens quantyte And shewed hym the nyne sperys And after that the melodye herde he That cometh of thylke sperys thryes thre That well is of musyke and melodye In this worlde and cause of armonye.

¶Than bade he hym se the erthe that is so lyte And was somdell full of harde grace That he ne shulde hym in the worlde delyte Than tolde he hym in certayne yeres space That euery sterre shulde come into his place There it was fyrste and all shall out of mynde That in this worlde was done of all mankynde.

¶Than prayed he Cypyon to tell hym all The waye to come to heuens blysse And he sayd knowe thyselfe fyrst mortall And loke ay besyly thou worke and wysse To comune profyte and thou shalte neuer mysse To come swyftly vnto that place dere That full of blysse is and soules clere.

¶But brekers of ehe lawe sothe for to sayne And lecherous folke after that they ben deed Shall alwaye whyrle aboute the erthe in peyne Tyll many a worlde be passed out of drede And than forgyuen them all theyr wycked dede Than shall they come vnto that blysfull place To the whiche to come god sende yche louer grace.

The day gan fayle and the derke nyght That reueth bestes from theyr busynesse Byrefte me my boke for lacke of lyght And to my bed / I gan me for to dresse Fulfylled of thought and busy heuynesse For bothe I had thynge whiche that I nolde And eke I ne had thynge that I wolde.

But fynally my spyryte at the laste For wery of my laboure all the daye Toke rest that made me to slepe faste And in my slepe I mette as I lay How Aufrycan ryght in that selfe aray That Cypyon hym sawe before that tyde Was comen and stode ryght at my beddes syde.

The wery hunter slepynge in his bed To woode agayne his mynde gothe anone The iudge dremeth how his pleys be sped The carter dremeth how his cartes gone The ryche of golde the knyght fyght with his tone The seke meteth he drynketh of the tonne The louer meteth he hathe his lady wonne.

Can I not say yf that the cause were For I red had of Aufrycan beforne That me to mete that he stode there But thus sayd he thou hast the so well borne In lokynge of myne olde boke all to torne Of whiche Macrobye rought not a lyte That somdele of thy laboure wolde I the quyte.

¶ytherea thou blysfull lady swete That with thy fyry bronde dauntest whome y^e leste And madest me this sweuen for to mete Be thou my helpe in this for thou mayste beste As wysshly as I sawe the north north west Whan I beganne my sweuen for to wryte So ye gyue me myght to ryme and to endyte.

This foresayd Aufrycan me hente anone And forth with hym vnto a gate brought Ryght of a parke walled with great stone And ouer the gate with letters large ywrought There were verses wryten as me thought On eyther halfe of full great dyfference Of whiche I shall you saye the playne sentence.

Thrughe me men go into that blysfull place Of hertes hele and deedly woundes cure Thrughe me men go vnto the well of grace There grene and lusty Maye shall euer endure This is the waye to all good auenture Be glad thou reder and thy sorowe of caste All open am I passe in and hye the faste.

Thrughe me men go than spake that other syde Vnto the mortall stroke of the spere Of whiche dysdayne and daunger is the gyde There tree shall neuer leues bere This streme you ledeth vnto the sorowfull were There as the fysshe in pryson is all drye The eschewynge is the remedy.

¶These verses of golde and blackey wryten were Of whiche I gan a stounde to beholde For with that one encreased ay my fere And with that other gan myne herte to bolde That one me hette that other dyd me colde No wytte had I for erroure for to chese To entre or fle or me to saue or lese.

¶Ryght as bytwene Adamantes two Of euen myght a pyece of yron sette That hathe no myght to meue to ne fro For what that one may hale that other lette So fared I that I ne wyst where that me was bette To entre or leue tyll Aufrycan my gyde Be hente and shofe in at the gates wyde.

¶And sayd it standeth wryten in thy face Thyne erroure thoughe thou tell it not to me But drede the not to come into this place For this wrytynge is nothynge ment by the He by none but he loues seruaunt be For thou of loue hase lost thy tast I gesse As seke man hathe of swete and bytternesse.

¶But nethles all though thou be dull That thou can not do yet may thou se For many a man that may not stande a pull Yet lyketh hym at the wrastlynge for to be And demeth yet whether he do bette or he And yf thou hau•• conynge for to endyte I shall the shewe matter of to wryte.

¶And with that my hande in his he toke anone Of whiche I conforte caught and went in faste But lorde so I was glad and well by gone For ouer all where I myne eyes caste Were trees clad with leues that aye shall laste Eche in his kynde with coloure fresshe and grene As emerawde that ioye was to sene.

¶The bylder oke and eke the hardy asshe The pyler elme / the cofer vnto carayne The boxe pype tree / holme to whyppes lasshe The sayle yerde fyrre / the cypresse dethe to playne The shorter ewe / the aspe for shaftes playne The olyue of peas and eke the dronken vyne The victor palme the laurer to deuyne.

¶A garden sawe I full of blosomed bowis Vpon a ryuer in a grene mede There as swetenes euermore ynoughe is With floures whyte blewe yelowe and rede And colde well stremes nothynge deed And swymmynge full of small fysshes lyght With fynnes reed and scales syluer bryght.

¶On euery bough the byrdes herde I synge With voyce of angell in theyr armonye That busyed them theyr byrdes forthe to brynge The lytell conyes to theyr play gan hye And further aboute I gan espye The drefull roo the bucke the herte and hynde Squyrell and beestes small of gentyll kynde.

On instrumentes of strynge in a corde Herde I so playe and rauyshynge swetenesse That god that maker is of all and lorde Ne herde neuer better as I gesse Therwith a wynde vneth it myght be lesse Made in the leues grene a noyse softe Acordynge to the foules songe on lofte.

The ayre of that place so attempred was That neuer was greuaunce therof hote ne colde There groweth euery holsome spyce and gras No man may there wexe seke ne olde Yet was there more ioye a thousande folde No man can tell neuer wolde it nyght But ay clere day to ony mannes syght.

Vnder a tree besyde a well I saye Copide our lorde his arowes forge and fyle And at his fete his bowe all redy laye And Wyll his doughter tempered all the whyle The hedes in the well and with a harde fyle She couched them after as they shulde serue Some to sle and some to wounde and kerue.

Tho was I ware of pleasaunce anone ryght And of araye and lust and curtesye And of the crafte that can and hathe the myght To go before a wyght and to do folye Dysfygured was she I shall not lye And by hymselfe vnder an oke I gesse Sawe I Delyte that stode with Gentylnesse.

I saw beaute without ony atyre And youghe full of game and iolyte Foole hardynesse flatery and desyre Massagery mede and other thre Theyr names shall not be tolde for me And vpon pylers great of iasper longe I sawe a temple of bras founded stronge.

Aboute the temple daunced alway Women ynowe of whiche some were Fayre of themselfe and some of them gay In kyrtles all dyssheueled went they there That was theyr offyce alway fro yere to yere And on the temple sawe I whyte and fayre Of douues whyte many an hundreth payre.

Before the temple dore full sobrelye Dame peas sate a curtayne in her honde And her besyde wonder dyscretlye Dame Pacyence syttynge there I fonde With face pale vpon an hyll of sonde And alder nexte within and withoute Beheste and arte and of theyr folke a route.

Within the temple with syghes hote as fyre I herde a syghe that gan aboute renne Whiche syghes were engendred with desyre That made euery auter for to brenne Of newe flamme and I espyed thenne That all the cause of sorowes that they drye Come of the bytter goddes Ialosye.

¶ The god Pyrapus sawe I as I wente Within the temple in souerayne place stande In suche aray as whan the asse hym shente With crye by nyght and with his ceptre in hande Full besyly men ganne assaye and fonde Vpon his heed to sette of sondry hewe Garlandes full of fresshe floures newe.

¶ And in a preuy corner in dysporte Founde I Venus and her porter rychesse That was full noble and hauteyne of her porte Derke was that place and afterwarde lyghtnesse I sawe a lyte vnneth it myght be lesse And on a bedde of golde she laye to reste Tyll that the hote sonne gan to the west.

¶ Her gylte heers with a golde threed I bounden were vntressed as she laye And naked fro the breest vnto the heed Men myght herse and sothly for to say The remanent couered well to my pay Ryght with a subtyll keuerchesse of valence There was no thycker clothe of defence.

¶ The place gaue a thousande sauoures swote And Bacchus god of wyne sate her besyde And Ceres nexte that dothe of hunger bote And as I sayd amyddes lay Cupyde To whome on knees the yonge folkes cryde To be theyr helpe but thus I let her lye And serther in the temple I gan espye.

That in despyte of Dyane the chaste Full many a bowe ybroke hanged on the wall Of maydens suche as gan theyr tymes waste In her seruyce and peynted ouer all Of many a story of whiche I touche shall A fewe as of Calyxte and Athalante And many a mayde of whiche the name I wante.

Semiramus Candace and Hercules Byblys Dido Tesbe and Piramus Trystram ysoude Parys and Achylles Heleyne Cleopatre and Troplus Sylla and eke the mother Romulus All these were paynted on that other syde And all theyr loue and in what plyte they dyed.

Whan I was come agayne into that place That I of spake that was so swete and greue Forthe walked I tho my selfe to solace Tho was I ware where there sate a quene That as of lyght the somer sonne shene Passeth the sterre ryght so ouer mesure She fayrer was than ony creature.

And in a launde vpon an hyll of flowres Was set this noble goddes of nature Of braunches were her halles & her bowres Y wrought after her crafte and her mesure Ne there was foule that cometh of engendure That there ne were preste in her presence To take her dome and gyue her audyence.

For this was on saynt Valentynes day Whan euery foule cometh there to chose his make Of euery kynde that men thynke maye And that so huge a noyse gan they make That erthe see and tree and euery lake So full was that vnneth was other space For me to stande so full was euery place.

And ryght as Alayne in the pleynt of kynde Deuyseth nature of such araye and face In suche araye men myght her there fynde This noble empresse full of grace Bade euery foule to take her owne place As they were wonte alway fro yere to yere On saynt Valentynes day to stande there

That is to saye the foules of rauyne Were hyghest set and than the foules smale That eten as nature wolde enclyne As worme or thynge of whiche I tell no tale But water foule sate lowest in the dale And foule that lyueth by sede sate on the grene And that so many that wonder was to sene.

There myght men the royall egle fynde That with his sharpe loke perceth the sonne And other egles of a lower kynde Of which that clerkes well deuysen konne There was the tyraunte with his fethers donne And grene I mene the goshauke that dothe payne To byrdes for his outragyous rauayne.

The gentyll faucon that with his fote dystreyneth The kynges hande / the sperhauke eke The quayles fo the merlyon that peyneth Hymselfe full ofte the larke for to leke There was the douue with her eyes meke The ielouse swanne ayenst his dethe that syngeth The oule eke that of dethe the bode bryngeth.

¶ The crane the geaunte with his trompes sewne The thefe the choughe and eke y^e ianglynge pye The scoruynge iaye the egles fo herowne The fals lap wynge full of trechery The stare that the counseyle gan bewrye The tame ruddcke and the cowarde kytte The cocke that orologe is of thorpes lyte.

The sparowe Venus sone / the nyghtyngale That clepyth forth the fresshe leues newe The swalowe mordrer of the foules smale That maken hony of floures fresshe of hewe The wedded turtle with his herte trewe The pecocke with his angels fethers bryght The fesaunte scorner of the cocke by nyght.

The waker goes the cukkowe euer vnkynde The popyniay full of delycasye The drake scorner of his owne kynde The storke wreker of auowtrye The hote cormeraunte of glotenye The rauen and the crowe with her voyce of care The throstle olde and the frosty feldfare.

What shulde I say of foules euery kynde That in this worlde haue fethers and stature Men myght in that place assembled fynde Before that noble goddes of nature And yche of them dyd his besy cure Benyngly to chose or for to take By her acorde his formell or his make.

But to the poynt nature helde on her honde A formall egle of shape the gentyllest That euer she ymonge her workes fonde The most benynge and goodlyest In her was euery vertue at his rest So ferforthe that nature her selfe had blysse To loke on her and ofte her beke to kysse.

Nature the vyker of the almyghty lorde That hote colde heuy lyght moyste and drye Hathe knytte by euen nombre of a corde In esy voyce began to speke and saye Foules take hede of my sentence I praye And for your ease in furtherynge of your nede As fast as I may speke I wyll me spede.

Ye knowe well how on saynt Valentynes day By my statute and thrugh my gouernaunce Ye come for to chose and fle your way With your makes as I prycke you with plesaunce But nethles my ryghtfull gouernaunce May I not let for all this worlde to wynne That he that most is worthy shall begynne.

The tercell egle as that ye knowen well The foule royall aboue you all in degre The wyse and worthy the secrete true as stele The whiche I haue fourmed as ye may se In euery parte as it best lyketh me It nedeth not his shappe you to deuyse He shall fyrst chose and speke in his gyse.

And after hym by ordre shall ye chese After your kynde eueryche as you lyketh And as your happe is shall ye wynne or lese But whiche of you that loue moste entryketh God sende hym her that sorest for hym syketh And therwithall the tercell gan she calle And sayd my sone the choys is to you yfalle.

But netheles in this condycyon Must be the choys of eueryche that is here That she agre to his eleccyon Who so he be that shulde be her fere This is oure vsage alway fro yere to yere And who so maye at this tyme haue his grace In blysfull tyme he came into this place.

With heed enclyned and with full humble chere This royall tercell spake and taryed nought Vnto my souereygne lady and not my fere I chese and chesse with wyll and herte and thought The formell on your hande so well I wrought Whose I am all and euer wyll her serue Do what her lust to do me lyue or sterue. The {per}. of fou.

Besechynge her of mercy and of grace As she that is my lady souerayne Or let me dye present in this place For certes longe may I not lyue in payne For in myne herte is koruen euery veyne Hauynge rewarde onely to my truthe My dere herte haue on my wo some ruthe.

And yf I be founde to her vntrewe Dysobeysaunte or wylfull neclygent Auauntour or in processe loue a newe I pray to you this be my iudgment That with these foules I be all to rent That ylke day that euer she me fynde To her vntrewe or in my gylte vnkynde.

And syth that none loueth her so well as I All thoughe she neuer of loue behette Than ought she be myne thrugh her mercy For other bonde can I none on her knette For neuer for no wo ne shall I lette To serue her how ferre so that she wende Say what thou lest my tale is an ende.

Ryght as the fresshe reed rose newe Ayenst the somer sonne coloured is Ryght so for shame all wexen gan the hewe Of this formell whan she herde all this Neyther she answered well ne sayd amys So sore abasshed was she tyll that Nature Sayd doughter drede you not I you assure.

Another tercell egle spake anone Of lower kynde and sayd that shulde not be I loue her better than ye do by saynt Iohan Or at lest I loue her as well as ye And lenger haue serued her in my degre And yf she shulde haue loued for longe louynge. To me alone had be the guardonynge.

I dare eke say yf she me fynde fals Vnkynde iangler or rebell ony wyse Or ialouse do me hange by the hals And but I bere me in her seruyse As well as my wytte can me suffyse Fro poynt to poynt her honoure for to saue Take she my lyfe and all the good I haue.

The thyrde tercell egle answered tho Now syrs ye se the lytell layser here For euery foule cryeth out to be ago Forthe with his make or with his lady dere And eke herselfe wyll nought here For taryenge her not halfe that I wolde say And but I speke I must for sorowe dey.

Of longe seruyce auaunte I me nothynge But as possyble is me to dye to day For wo as he that hathe be languysshynge These twenty wynter and well happen may A man may serue better and more to pay In halfe a yere though it were no more Than some man dothe that hathe serued full yore.

I ne say not this by me for I ne can Do no seruyce that may my lady plese But I dare say I am her truest man As to my dome and faynest wolde her plese At shorte wordes tyll that dethe me sese I wyll be hers wheder I walke or wynke And true in all that herte may bethynke.

Of all my lyfe syth that day I was borne So gentyll ple in loue or other thynge Ne herde I neuer no man me beforne Who that had leyser and connynge For to rehers her chere and her spekynge And from the morowe gan this speche laste Tyll downewarde wente the sonne wonder faste

The noyse of fowles for to be delyuered So loude range / haue doone and let vs wende That well wende I the wood all to shyuered Come of they cryed alas ye wyll vs shende Whan shall your cursed pledynge haue an ende How shulde a iudge eyther party leue For ye or nay without ony preue.

The goos the ducke and the cukkowe also So cryed keke keke cukko we queke queke hye That thrugh myn eeres the noyse wente tho The goos sayd tho all this nys worthe a flye But I can shape hereof a remedye And wyll say my verdyte fayre and swythe For water foule who so be sad or blythe.

And I for worme soule sayd the foule cuckow For I wyll of myne owne auctoryte For comune spede take on me the charge now For to delyuer vs is great charyte Ye may abyde a whyle yet parde Quod the turtle yf be your wyll A whyght may speke hym were as good be styll.

I am a sede foule one the vnworthyest That wote I well and lytell of connynge But better is that a wyghtes tongue rest Then entremete hym of suche doynge Of whiche he neyther rede can nor synge And who so dothe full foule hymselfe acloyeth For offyce vncommytted ofte anoyeth.

Nature whiche that alway had an ere To murmure of the lewdnesse behynde With faconde voyce sayd / holde your tongues there And I shall soone I hope a counsell fynde You for to delyuer and from this noyse vnbynde I iudge of euery folke men shall one call To say the verdyte of you foules all.

Assented were to this conclusyon The byrdes all / and foules of rauyne Haue chosen fyrst by playne eleccyon The tercelet of the faucon to dyffyne All her sentence and as hym lust to termyne And to nature hym they dyd present And she accepteth hym with glad entent. The assem. of fou.

The tercelet sayd then in manere Full harde were it to preue it by reason Who loueth beste this gentyll formell here For eueryche hath suche replycacyon That by skylles may none be brought adoune I can not se that argumentes auayle Then semeth it there must be batayle.

All redy quod this egles tercelles tho Nay syrs quod he yf that I durst it say Ye do me wronge my tale is not ydo For syrs taketh not a grefe I pray It may not as ye wolde in this way Ours is the voyce that haue the charge in honde And to the iudges dome ye must stonde.

And therfore I say as to my wyt Me wolde thynke how that the worthyest Of knyghthode / and lengest had vsed it Most of estate of blode the gentyllest Were syttynge to her yf that her lest And of these thre she wote her selfe I trowe Whiche that he be / for it is lyght to knowe.

The water foules haue theyr hedes layde Togyder / and of shorte auysement Whan eueryche had his large golde sayde They sayd sothely all by one assent How that the goos with her faconde gent That so desyreth to pronounce our nede Shall tell our tale and prayed to god her spede.

And for these water foules tho began The goos to speke and in her cakelynge She sayd pes now / take kepe euery man And herken whiche a reason I shall forth brynge My wytte is sharpe I loue no taryenge I say I rede hym thoughe he were my brother But she wyll loue hym let hym loue another.

Lo here a perfyte reson of a goos Quod the sperhauke neuer mote she the Lo suche it is to haue a tongue loos Now parde fole it were better for the Haue holde thy peas then shewed thy nycete It lyeth not in his wytte nor in his wyll But sothe is sayd a foole cannot be styll.

The laughter arose of gentyll foules all And ryght anone the sede foules chosen had The turtle true / and dyd her to them call And prayed her to saye the sothe sad Of this mater / and asked what she rad And she answered that playnly her intent She wolde shewe / and sothly what she ment.

Now god forbede a louer shulde chaunge The turtle sayd and wexe for shame all reed Though that his lady euermore be straunge Yet lete hym serue her alway tyll he be deed For so the I prayse nought the goses reed For though she dyed I wolde not other make I wyll be hers tyll that the dethe me take.

Well bourded quod the ducke by my hat That men shulde loue alway causelesse Who can a reason fynde or wytte in that Daunceth he mery that is myrthlesse Who shulde recke of that is rechelesse Ye queke quod the ducke full well and fayre There be mosterres god wote than a payre.

Now fy chorle quod the gentyll tercelette Out of the donghyll came that worde full ryght Thou rauste not se whiche thynge is well bysette Thou farest by loue as owles do by lyght The day them blyndeth full well they se by nyght Thy kynde is of so lowe a wretchednesse That what loue is thou canst not se nor gesse

Tho gan the cuckow put hymselfe in preas For foule that eteth worme / and sayd as blyue So I quod he may haue my make in peas I recke not how longe that ye stryue Let yche of them be soleyne all theyr lyue This is my reed syth they may not acorde This shorte lesson nedeth not recorde.

Ye haue the gloton fylled ynoughe his paunche Than are we well sayd the emerlyon Thou murderer of haysoge on the braunche That brought the forth thou rufull gloton Lyue thou soleyne wormes corrupcyon For no force is for lacke of thy nature Go lewde be thou whyle thy lyfe may dure.

Now peas quod nature I commaunde here For I haue herde all your opynyon And in effecte yet be we neuer the nere But fynally this is my conclusyon That she herselfe shall haue her eleccyon Of whome her lust who so be wrothe or blythe Hym that she cheseth he shall haue her as swythe.

For syth it may not here dyscussed be Who loueth her best as sayd the tercelet Than wyll I do this fauoure to her that she Shall haue ryght hym on whom her herte is set And he her that his herte hath on her knet This iudge I nature for I may not lye To none estate I haue none other eye.

But as for counseyle to chese a make Yf I were reason than wolde I Counseyle you the royall tercell take As sayd the tercelet full skylfully As for the gentyllest and most worthy Whiche I haue wrought so well to my pleasaunce That it ought to be to you a suffysaunce.

With dredefull voyce the formell her answerde My ryght full lady goddes of nature Sothe is that I am euer vnder your yerde As is euery other creature And must be youres whyle my lyfe may endure And therfore graunte me my fyrst boone And myne entent I shall you say ryght soone

I graunte it you quod she and ryght anone This formell egle spake in this degre Almyghty quene vnto this yere be done I aske respyte for to aduyse me And after that to haue my choys all fre This is all and some that I wolde speke and sey Ye gete no more all though ye do me dey.

I wyll not serue Venus ne Cupyde For soche as yet by no maner way Now syth it may none other wayes betyde Quod nature here is no more to say Than wolke I that these foules were away Yche with his make for taryenge longer here And sayd them thus as ye shall after here.

To you speke I ye tercelettes sayd nature Be of good herte and serue ye all thre A yere is not so longe to endure And yche of you peyne hym in his degre For to do well for god wote quyte is she Fro you this yere what after so befall This entremesse is dressed fro you all.

And whan this werke all wrought was to an ende To euery foule nature gaue his make By euen acorde and on theyr way they wende A lorde the blysse and ioye that they make For yche of them gan other in wynges take And with theyr neckes yche gan other wynde Thankynge alway the noble goddes of kynde

But fyrst were there chosen foules for to synge As yere by yere was alway theyr vsaunce To synge a roundell at theyr departynge To do Nature honoure and plesaunce The note I trowe ymaked was in Fraunce The wordes were suche as ye may here fynde The nexte verse as I now haue in mynde.

¶ Que bien ayme atard oblye.

And with theyr shout ȳge whan theyr songe was do That foules made at theyr flyght away I woke / and other bokes toke me to To rede vpon / and yet I rede alway I hope y wys to rede so some day That I shall mete some thynge for to fare The better / and thus to rede I wyll not spare.

¶ Explicit tractatus de congregatione volucrum die sancte Vnlentini.

¶ Thus endeth the congregacyon of foules on saynt Valentynes day.