My woful herte through your crueltee.
6. My swete foo,why do ye so,for shame?
And thenke yethat furthered beyour name,
To love a newe,and been untrewe?nay!
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And putte yowin sclaunder nowand blame,
And do to meadversiteeand grame,
That love yow most,god, wel thou wost!alway?
Yet turn ayeyn,and be al pleynsom day,
And than shal thisthat now is misbe game,