XIV.

[Fol. 71, vo.]

IN May hit murgeth when hit dawes, In dounes with this dueres plawes, ant lef is lyht on lynde;

Blosmes bredeth on the bowes,
Al this wylde wyhtes wowes,

so wel ych under-fynde.

Y not non so freoli flour,

Ase ledies that beth bryht in boure,
with love who mihte hem bynde;
So worly wymmen are by west;
One of hem ich herie best,

Fom Irlond in to Ynde.

Wymmen were the beste thing, That shup oure heze hevene kyng, 3ef feole false nere;

Heo beoth to rad upon huere red,

To love ther me hem lastes bed, when heo shule fenge fere;

Lut in londe are to leve,

Thah me hem trewe trouthe zeve,

for tricherie to zere;

When trichour hath is trouthe y-plyht,

By-swyken he hath that suete wyht,

thah he hire othes swere.

Wymmon, war the with the swyke,
That feir ant freoly ys to fyke,

ys fare is o to founde;

So wyde in world ys huere won,
In uch a toune untrewe is on,
from Leycestre to Lounde.
Of treuthe nis the trichour noht,
Bote he habbe is wille y-wroht,
at stevenyng umbe stounde;
Ah feyre levedis be on-war,
To late cometh the zeyn char,
when love ou hath y-bounde.

Wymmen bueth so feyr on hewe,
Ne trowy none that nere trewe,
zef trichour hem ne tahte;
Ah feyre thinges freoly bore,
When me on woweth, beth war bifore,
whuch is worldes ahte.

Al to late is send azeyn,
When the ledy liht by leyn,

ant lyveth by that he lahte;
Ah wolde lylie leor in lyn
Y-here lovely lores myn,

with selthe we weren sahte.

XV.

[Fol. 72, ro.]

HEZE loverd, thou here my bone,
That madest middel-ert ant mone,
ant mon of murthes munne,
Trusti kyng ant trewe in trone,
That thou be with me sahte sone,

asoyle me of sunne.

Fol ich wes in folies fayn,

In luthere lastes y am layn,

that maketh myn thryftes thunne; That semly sawes wes woned to-seyn, Nou is marred al my meyn, a-way is al my wunne.

Un-wunne haveth myn wonges wet,

Ne

that maketh me routhes rede; semy nout ther y am set, Ther me calleth me fulle flet,

ant waynoun wayte glede.

Whil ich wes in wille wolde,
In uch a bour among the bolde

y holde with the heste; Nou y may no fynger folde, Lutel loved ant lasse y-tolde, y-leved with the leste.

A goute me hath y-greythed so,
Ant other eveles monye mo,

y not whet bote is beste; Thar er wes wilde ase the ro, Nou y swyke, y mei nout so,

hit siweth me so faste.

Faste

y wes on horse heh,

ant werede worly wede;

Nou is faren al my feh,

With serewe that ich hit ever seh,

a staf is nou my stede.

When y se steden stythe in stalle,

Ant y go

haltinde in the halle,

myn huerte gynneth to helde;

That er wes wildest in with walle,

Nou is under fote y-falle,

ant mey no fynger felde.

Ther ich wes luef, icham ful loht,
Ant alle myn godes me at-goht,

myn gomenes waxeth gelde;

That feyre founden me mete ant cloht, Hue wrieth a-wey as hue were wroht,

such is evel ant elde.

Evel ant elde, ant other wo,

foleweth me so faste,

Me thunketh myn herte breketh a tuo; Suete God, whi shal hit swo?

hou mai hit lengore laste?

Whil mi lif wes luther ant lees,
Glotonie mi glemon wes,

with me he wonede a while; Prude wes my plowe fere, Lecherie my lavendere,

with hem is gabbe ant gyle.

Coveytise myn keyes bere,
Nithe ant onde were mi fere,
that bueth folkes fyle;
Lyare wes mi latymer,
Sleuthe ant slep mi bedyner,
that weneth me unbe-while.

Umbe-while y am to whene,

when y shal murthes meten;

Monne mest y am to mene; Lord, that hast me lyf to-lene, such lotes lef me leten !

Such lyf ich have lad fol 3ore,
Merci, loverd! y nul namore,

bowen ichulle to bete; Syker hit siweth me ful sore, Gabbes les ant luthere lore,

sunnes bueth un-sete.

E