Ye had a paramour,
All this may nought reineue my thought,
But that I wil be your;
And she shal fynde me soft and kynde,
And curteis euery our;
Glad to fulfylle all that she wylle
Commaunde me to my power:
For had ye, loo, an hundred moo,
Yet wolde I be that one,
For, in my mynde, of all mankynde,