by the same

Mie boolie entes, adiewe: ne more the syghte Of guilden merke shalle mete mie joieous eyne; Ne moe the sylver noble sheenynge bryghte, Shalle fylle mie hande wythe weighte to speke ytte fyne; Ne moe, ne moe, alas, I calle you myne; Whyder must you, ah! whydder moste I goe? I kenne not either! Oh mie emmers dygne, To parte wythe you wyll wurche me myckle woe. I must begon, butte where I dare nott telle, O storthe unto mie mynde! I goe to helle. 10

Soone as the morne dyd dyghte the roddie sunne, A shade of theves eache streacke of lyghte dyd seeme; Whan yn the Heaven full half hys course was ronne, Eche styrrynge nayghbour dyd mie harte afleme; Thie Losse, or quyck or slepe, was aie mie dreme; For thee, O goulde, I did the lawe ycrase, For thee I gotten or bie wiles or breme; Ynn thee I all mie joie and goode dyd place; Botte nowe to mee thie pleasaunce ys ne moe, I kenne notte botte for thee I to the quede muste goe. 20


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