Besse Bunting
When hartes be all mery,
Besse Bunting, the millaris may,
Withe lippes so red as chery,
She cast in hir remembrance
To passe hir time in daliance
And to leve hir thought driery.
Right womanly arayd
In a peticote of whit,
She was nothing dismayd -
Hir countenance was full light.
Autor(es): Katharine Blake