I take my leve of your unstedfastnesse,
For wel I wot, whyl ye have lyves space,
5
Ye can not love ful half yeer in a place;
To newe thing your lust is ever kene;
In stede of blew, thus may ye were al grene.
Right as a mirour nothing may enpresse,
But, lightly as it cometh, so mot it pace,
10
So fareth your love, your werkes bereth witnesse.