In Praise of Ivy

Ivy, chefe of trees it is,
Veni, coronaberis.

The most worthye she is in towne—
He that seith other do amiss—
And worthy to ber the crowne.
Veni, coronaberis.

Ivy is soft and mek of spech,
Ageinst all bale she is bliss.
Well is he that may her rech.
Veni, coronaberis.

Ivy is green with colour bright,
Of all trees best she is,
And that I preve well now be right.
Veni, coronaberis.

Ivy bereth beris black.
God graunt us all his bliss,
For there shall we nothing lack.
Veni, coronaberis.
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