Ac, hadde I maistrie and myght.
God woot my wille!
And whanne I come to the kirk
And sholde kneel to the roode,
And preye for the peple …
Awey fro the auter thanne
Turne I myne eighen
And bi-holde Eleyne
Hath a newe cote;
I wisshe thanne it were myn,