110
For she, that hath thyn herte in governaunce,
Is passed halfe the stremes of thyn yën;
That thou nere swift, wel mayst thou wepe and cryen.
Now fleeth Venus un-to Cylenius tour,
With voide cours, for fere of Phebus light.
115
Alas! and ther ne hath she no socour,
For she ne fond ne saw no maner wight;
And eek as ther she had but litil might;