Now welcom, somer, with thy sonne softe
That hast this wintres wedres overshake
And driven away the longe nyghtes blake!

Saynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on-lofte
Thus syngen smale foules for thy sake:

Wel han they cause for to gladen ofte
Sith ech of hem recovered hath hys make;
Ful blissful mowe they synge when they wake: (when they wake)

Now welcome, somеr, with thy sonne softe
That hast this wintres wеdres overshake
And driven away the longe nyghtes blake!