For at the crowing of the cock,
You did deny your master thrice,
For all your stoutness turned a block,
Now flyte no more if ye be wise.
Yet at the last the Lord arose,
Environed with angels bright,
And to the wife in haste he goes,
Desired her soon pass out of sight.
O Lord, quoth she, cause do me right,
But not according to my sin;