[Sidenote: He often visits the spot where his pearl disappeared, and hears a sweet song.] Syþen i{n} þat spote hit fro me sprange, Ofte haf I wayted wyschande þat wele, Þat wont watȝ whyle deuoyde my wrange, & heuen my happe & al my hele, 16 Þ{a}t dotȝ bot þrych my hert þrange, My breste in bale bot bolne & bele. Ȝet þoȝt me neu{er} so swete a sange, As stylle stou{n}de let to me stele, 20 For-soþe þ{er} fleten to me fele, To þenke hir color so clad i{n} clot; O moul[2] þ{o}u marreȝ a myry mele. My p{r}iuy perle w{i}t{h}-outen spotte, 24 [Sidenote 2: ? _mould._] [Sidenote: Where the pearl was buried there he found lovely flowers. Each blade of grass springs from a dead grain.] Þat spot of spyseȝ myȝt nedeȝ sprede, Þer such rycheȝ to rot[3] is ru{n}nen; Blomeȝ blayke & blwe & rede, Þer schyneȝ ful schyr agayn þe su{n}ne. 28 Flor & fryte may not be fede, Þer hit dou{n} drof i{n} moldeȝ du{n}ne, For vch gresse mot grow of grayneȝ dede, No whete were elleȝ to woneȝ wo{n}ne; 32 Of goud vche goude is ay by-go{n}ne. So semly a sede moȝt fayly not, Þ{a}t spry{n}gande[4] spyceȝ vp ne spo{n}ne, Of þat p{re}cios perle wyth-outen spotte. 36 [Sidenote 3: ? _rote._] [Sidenote 4: The MS. reads _sprygande_.] [Sidenote: [Fol. 39b.]] [Sidenote: In the high season of August the parent visits the grave of his lost child. Beautiful flowers covered the grave. From them came a delicious odour.] To þat spot þat I in speche expou{n} I entred in þat erber grene, In augoste in a hyȝ seysou{n}, Quen corne is coruen wyth crokeȝ kene. 40 On huyle þer perle hit trendeled dou{n}, Schadowed þis worteȝ ful schyre & schene Gilofre, gyngure & gromylyou{n}, & pyonys powdered ay by-twene. 44 Ȝif hit watȝ semly on to sene, A fayr reflayr ȝet fro hit flot, Þer wonys þat worþyly I wot & wene, My p{re}cio{us} perle, wyth-outen spot. 48 [Sidenote: The bereaved father wrings his hands for sorrow, falls asleep upon the flowery plot, and dreams.] Bifore þat spot my honde I spe{n}n[e]d, For care ful colde þat to me caȝt[e]; A denely dele in my hert de{n}ned, Þaȝ resou{n} sette my seluen saȝt[e]. 52 I playned my perle þ{a}t þ{er} watȝ spe{n}ned Wyth fyrte skylleȝ þat faste faȝt[e], Þaȝ kynde of kryst me comfort ke{n}ned, My wreched wylle i{n} wo ay wraȝte. 56 I felle vpon þat flo{ur}y flaȝt[e], Suche odo{ur} to my herneȝ schot; I slode vpon a slepy{n}g slaȝte, On þat p{re}c[i]os perle w{i}t{h}-outen spot. 60