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Lo! here be oakis grete, streight as a line, Under the which the grass, so fresh of line, Be'th newly sprung at eight foot or nine. Everich tree well from his fellow grew, With branches broad laden with leaves new, That sprongen out against the sonne sheene, Some golden red and some a glad bright green. And in another canton was the following similar legend:
Fatigued with the distance they had come, it was now with a more leisurely pace the two proceeded, and, walking for the most part in silence, the sun had risen before they reached home. When shaws beene sheene and shrads full fayre, And leaves both large and longe, Itt is merrye walking in the faire forrest, To hear the small birdes songe.
Lo! here be oakis grete, streight as a line, Under the which the grass, so fresh of line, Be'th newly sprung at eight foot or nine. Everich tree well from his fellow grew, With branches broad laden with leaves new, That sprongen out against the sonne sheene, Some golden red and some a glad bright green. And in another canton was the following similar legend:
On either side, to right and left the tree-girdle reached out toward the blue distance, thick close and unsundered, save where it and the plain which it begirdled was cleft amidmost by a river about as wide as the Thames at Sheene when the flood-tide is at its highest, but so swift and full of eddies, that it gave token of mountains not so far distant, though they were hidden.
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