Almighty god, of trouthe sovereyn,
Wher is the trouthe of man? who hath hit sleyn?
Who that hem loveth shal hem fynde as fast
As in a tempest is a roten mast.
315
Is that a tame best that is ay feyn
To renne away, when he is leest agast?
5. Now mercy, swete, if I misseye,
Have I seyd oght amis, I preye?