Text I. Text II

In a somer seson In a somè seyson, Whan softe was the sonne, Whan softe was the sonne, I shop me into shroudes Y shop into shrobbis As I a sheep weere, As y shepherde were. In habite as an heremite In abit az an ermite Unholy of werkes, Unholy of werkes, Wente wide in this world That wente forthe in the worle Wonders to here, Wondres to hure, Ac on a May morwenynge And sawe meny cellis On Malverne hilles And selcouthe thynges. Me bifel a ferly, Ac on a May morwenyng Of fairye me thoghte. On Malverne hulles I was wery for-wandred, Me by-fel for to slepe, And wente me to reste For weyrynesse of wandryng, Under a broode bank And in a lande as ich lay By a bournes syde, Lenede ich and slepte, And as I lay and lenede, And merveylously me mette, And loked on the watres, As ich may yow telle. I slombred into a slepyng, Al the welthe of this worlde, It sweyed so murye. And the woo bothe, Thanne gan I meten Wynkyng as it were A merveillous swevene, Wyterly ich saw hyt, That I was in a wildernesse Of truyth and of tricherye, Wiste I nevere where; Of tresoun and of gyle, And as I biheld in to the eest Al ich saw slepyng, An heigh to the sonne, As ich shal yow telle. I seigh a tour on a toft, etc. Esteward ich behulde After the sonne, And sawe a tour as ich trowede, etc.