ing
forth and clasps and kisses it and
wipes its eyes. Exactly so our
Lord leaves us alone once in a
while and withdraws his grace
and his comfort, that we find
sweetness in nothing that we do well,
no relish of heart; and notwithstanding,
at the same time, he, our dear
Father, loves us nevertheless,
but he does it for the great love
that he has for us.

Professor Sweet calls the _Ancren Riwle_ "one of the most perfect
models of simple, natural, eloquent prose in our language." For its
introduction of French words, this work occupies a prominent place in
the development of the English language. Among the words of French
origin found in it, we may instance: "dainty," "cruelty," "vestments,"
"comfort," "journey," "mercer."

Lyrical Poetry.--A famous British Museum manuscript, known as
_Harleian MS., No. 2253_. which was transcribed about 1310, contains a
fine anthology of English lyrics, some of which may have been composed
early in the thirteenth century. The best of these are love lyrics,
but they are less remarkable for an expression of the tender passion
than for a genuine appreciation of nature. Some of them are full of
the joy of birds and flowers and warm spring days.

A lover's song, called _Alysoun_, is one of the best of these
lyrics:--

"Bytuene Mershe ant[3] Averil[4]
When spray biginneth to spring,
The lutel[5] foul hath hire wyl
On hyre lud[6] to synge."

A famous spring lyric beginning:--

"Lenten[7] ys come with love to toune,[8]
With blosmen ant with briddes[9] roune."[10]

is a symphony of daisies, roses, "lovesome lilies," thrushes, and
"notes suete of nyhtegales."

The refrain of one love song is invigorating with the breath of the
northern wind:--

"Blou, northerne wynd!
Send thou me my suetyng!
Blou norterne wynd! blou, blou, blou!"

The _Cuckoo Song_, which is perhaps older than any of these, is the
best known of all the early lyrics:--

"Sumer is i-cumen in
Lhude sing cuccu
Groweth sed and bloweth med
And springeth the wde nu.
Sing cuccu, cuccu."

Summer is a-coming in,
Loud sing cuckoo,
Groweth seed and bloometh mead,
And springeth the wood now.
Sing cuckoo, cuckoo.

A more somber note is heard in the religious lyrics:--

"Wynter wakeneth al my care,
Nou this leves waxeth bare;
Ofte I sike[11] ant mourne sare[12]
When hit cometh in my thoht
Of this worldes joie, hou hit got