Winter Wakeneth

Wynter wakeneth al me care,
Nou this leves waxeth bare;
Ofte y sike and mourne sare
When hit cometh in my thoht
Of this worldes joie hou hit geth al to noht.

Nou hit is, and nou hit nys—
Also hit ner nere ywys;
That moni mon seith soth hit ys:
Al goth bote godes wille;
Alle we shule deye thah us like ylle.

Al that gren me graueth grene;
Nou hit faleweth al by-dene.
Jhesu, help that hit be sene,
Ant shild us from helle!
For y not whider y shal ne hou longe her duelle.