And all the blood rush to my heart.

And there-with kest I doun myn eye ageyne,

Quhare as I sawe, walking under the toure,

Full secretly, new cummyn hir to pleyne,

The fairest or the freschest yong{.e} floure

That ever I sawe, me thoght, before that houre,

For quhich sodayn abate, anon astert

The blude of all my body to my hert.

And then I cast my eyes down again,

Where I saw, walking under the tower,

Secretly, newly come to lament,

The fairest and freshest young flower

That ever I saw, I thought, before that hour

Which suddenly made my body start

And all the blood rush to my heart.