IN somer when the shawes be sheyne, <br /> And leves be large and long, <br />Hit is full merry in feyre foreste <br /> To here the foulys song. <br /> <br />To se the dere draw to the dale <br /> And leve the hilles hee, <br />And shadow him in the leves grene <br /> Under the green-wode tree. <br /> <br />Hit befell on Whitsontide <br /> Early in a May mornyng, <br />The Sonne up faire can shyne, <br /> And the briddis mery can syng. <br /> <br />'This is a mery mornyng,' said Litulle Johne, <br /> 'Be Hym that dyed on tre; <br />A more mery man than I am one <br /> Lyves not in Christiante. <br /> <br />'Pluk up thi hert, my dere mayster,' <br /> Litulle Johne can say, <br />'And thynk hit is a fulle fayre tyme <br /> In a mornynge of May.'<br /><br />Anonymous<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/may-in-the-green-wood/
