As sone as ever the sonne ginneth weste, To seen this flour, how it wol go to reste, For fere of night, so hateth she derknesse! _From_ B. 53-56. As she, that is of alle floures flour, Fulfilled of al vertu and honour, +And ever y-lyke fair, and fresh of hewe; And I love hit, and ever y-lyke newe. *Hir chere is pleynly sprad in the brightnesse *Of the sonne, for ther hit wol unclose. 65 *Allas! that I ne had English, ryme or prose, Suffisant this flour to preyse aright! *But helpeth, ye that han conning and might, *Ye lovers, that can make of sentement; *In this cas oghte ye be diligent 70 *To forthren me somwhat in my labour, *Whether ye ben with the leef or with the flour. For wel I wot, that ye han her-biforn +Of making ropen, and lad awey the corn; +And I come after, glening here and there, 75 +And am ful glad if I may finde an ere Of any goodly word that ye han left. And thogh it happen me rehercen eft That ye han in your fresshe songes sayd, For-bereth me, and beth nat evel apayd, 80 Sin that ye see I do hit in the honour Of love, and eek in service of the flour, _From_ B. 188-196. But natheles, ne wene nat that I make In preysing of the flour agayn the leef, +No more than of the corn agayn the sheef. For as to me, nis lever noon ne lother; I nam with-holden yit with never nother. Ne I not who serveth leef, ne who the flour; Wel brouken they hir service or labour. For this thing is al of another tonne, Of olde story, er swich thing was begonne.