Sumer is gecumen in Sumer is ycomen in
Sumer is gecumen in

Hlude singþ geac
Bloweþ mæd and groweþ sæd
And springþ seo wudu nu

Sing geac cuccu!
Sumer is icumen in

Lhude singþ cuccu
Groweþ sed and bloweþ med
And springþ þe wude nu.

Sing cucu!
Sing geac cuccu Sing cuccu
Eowu blæteþ æfter lambe

Hlewþ æfter calfe cu
Bulloca sturteþ, bucca feorteþ
Mirige sing geac cuccu

Awe bleteþ after lomb

Lhouþ after calve cu
Bulluc sterteþ, bucke verteþ,
Murie sing cuccu!

Cuccu, cuccu

Wel singe þu geac Ne swic-þu næfre nu!

Cuccu, cuccu

Wel singe þu cuccu
Ne swikþu naver nu!

Se Hatheort Hierde, to his Willan The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

by Christopher Marlowe, 1599

Cum won mid me and wes min leof,

And wit willan eall dream cunnian
Þa dene, dune, grafas, wongas
Wudu oððe steap hlið gieldeð

Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields
Woods or steepy mountain yields

And wit willan sittan on þæm cludum,

Wacian hierde fedan floccas
Æt ta-diop ea, to þæs þeotra
Swinnfuglas singað gliwdream.

And we will sit upon the rocks,

Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

For þe wille ic weorcan rosen beddu

And þusand stincenden blostmabindela,
An blostmen hnifelwiþig, and an cyrtel
Eall wirleafborda;

And I will make thee beds of roses

And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flower, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

An serc, geworht fram godlice wull

Seo fram unc leohtum lambrum teoþ wit;
Ticcenleþren slæppescos wiþ þara cylda
Mid siglu fram unwemmede golde;

A gown made of the finest wool

Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold
With buckles of the purest gold;

An streawen gyrdel mid ifig-cropum,

Mid curalen gespongum and glæren stuðum;
And gif ðes gecwemednes mot þec astyrian,
Onwon mid me and wes min leof.

A belt of straw and ivy buds,

With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

Þa sceaphierdea swanas sceallan hleapan and singan,

For þinre wynna ælc Maius mergen:
Gif þas lustas mot þin hyge astyrian,
Cum won mid me and wes min leof.

The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing

For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd

by Sir Walter Raleigh, 1600

Gif eall seo woruld and lufu wæren geong,

And soð in ælcan sceaphierdes tunge,
Þas beorhta lustas miht mec astyrian
To wonnienne mid with þe and wesienne þin lief.

If all the world and love were young,

And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Tima drifeð floccas felde to folde,

Hwonne ea styrmað and cludas coliað;
And nihtegala weorð dumb;
Woruldlaf mænan towearda cearu.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,

When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complain of cares to come.

[unfinished] The flowers do fade, and wanton fields

To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Þin sercas, scos, þin rosen beddas,

Þin hnifelwiþig, cyrtel, and þin blostmabindela,

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy bed of roses,

Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Þin streawen gyrdel and ifigcropas,

Þin curalen gespongas and glæren stuþas,
Eall þas in me ne wise mæg @
To cumienne to þe and þin lief wesenne.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,

Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

Ac @ geoguþ @ and lufu giet @,

Nædde dream @ noððe @ ne @,

But could youth last and love still breed,

Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.