Whilere

VVe met that villen (God from him me bleſſe) / That curſed wight, from whom I ſcapt whyleare, / A man of hell, that cals himſelfe Deſpayre: […]

Thou mak'ſt me merry: I am full of pleaſure, / Let vs be iocond. Will you troule the Catch / You taught me but whileare?

He who with all Heav'ns heraldry whileare / Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us eaſe; / Alas, how ſoon our ſin / Sore doth begin / His Infancy to ſeaſe!

But who shall teach my harp to gain / A sound of the romantic strain, / Whose Anglo-Norman tones whilere / Could win the Second Henry's ear, / Famed Beauclere called, for that he loved / The minstrel, and his lay approved?