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More then me lyste my drede aros, I stod full stylle and dorste not calle; Wyth yghen open and mouth ful clos, I stod as hende as hawk in halle. He dares not speak for fear of breaking the spell; but sweet as a lily she comes down the crystal stream's bank to meet and speak with him, and tell him of the happy life of heaven and how to live to be worthy of it.
No doubt they were elevated for a moment as by the reminiscence of a previous state of existence, when even they were foresters and outlaws. "When he came to grene wode, In a mery mornynge, There he herde the notes small Of byrdes mery syngynge. "It is ferre gone, sayd Robyn, That I was last here; Me lyste a lytell for to shote At the donne dere."
No doubt they were elevated for a moment as by the reminiscence of a previous state of existence, when even they were foresters and outlaws. "When he came to grene wode, In a mery mornynge, There he herde the notes small Of byrdes mery syngynge. "It is ferre gone, sayd Robyn, That I was last here; Me Lyste a lytell for to shote At the donne dere."
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