Good morrow, fair Ladies of the May, where is my cruel? Good morrow, fair Ladies of the May, where is my sweet cruel? fair Cloris my sweet cruel? O see where she comes a Queen, all in green, all in gaudy green arraying, O how gaily goes my sweet jewel. Was never such a Maying, Since May delights first decaying. So was my Cloris sheen brought home and made May Queen.