I have a yong suster
Fer beyonden the se,
Many be the drowryes
That she sente me.
She sente me the cherye
Withouten ony ston;
And so she dede the dove
Withouten ony bon.
She sente me the brer
Withouten ony rinde;
She bad me love my lemman
Withoute longing.
How shuld ony cherye
Be withoute ston?
And how shuld ony dove
Be withoute bon?
How shuld ony brer
Been withoute rinde?
How shuld I love myn lemman
Withoute longing?
Whan the cherye was a flowr
Than hadde it non ston.
When the dove was an ey
Than hadde it non bon.
When the brer was onbred
Than hadde it non rind.
Whan the maiden hath that she loveth
She is without longing.
