Hyd, Absolom, thy gilte tresses clere / Machaut
Madame, for your newe-fangelnesse / Machaut
To you my purse, and to non other wight / Machaut
The first stok, fader of gentilesse / Machaut
Flee from the prees, and dwelle with sothfastnesse / Machaut
Madame, ye ben of al beaute shryne / Senleches
So hath my herte caught in remembraunce / Solage
This wrecched worldes transmutacioun; No man is wrecched, but himself hit wene / Andrieu-Deschamps
Ther nis so hy comfort to my plesaunce / Anon.
If no love is, O god, what fele I so? / Machaut
O love, to whom I have and shal / Machaut
Now welcom somer, with thy sonne softe / Machaut.
