Yet never complained of cold nor heat,
Of summer's flame, nor of winter's threat,
Ne ever was to Fortune foeman,
But gently took that ungently came;
And ever my flock was my chief care;
Winter or summer they might well fare.
CUD. No marvel, Thenot, if thou can bear
Cheerfully the winter's wrathful cheer;
For age and winter accord full nigh,
This chill, that cold; this crooked, that wry;