RYE

IRIS

Ceres, most bounteous lady,

thy rich leas

Of wheat, RYE, barley,

vetches, oats, and pease.

—Tempest [Act IV, sc. 1]

IRIS

You sunburnt sicklemen,

of August weary,

Come hither from the furrow

and be merry;

Make holiday;

your RYE-straw hats put on.

—Tempest [Act IV, sc. 1]

SONG [1ST/2ND PAGE]

Between the acres of the RYE

These pretty country folks would lye.

—As You Like It [Act V, sc. 3]