Adoun I fel, when that I saugh the herse,
Deed as a stoon, whyl that the swogh me laste;
But up I roos, with colour ful diverse,
And pitously on hir myn yën caste,
And ner the corps I gan to presen faste,
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And for the soule I shoop me for to preye;
I nas but lorn; ther nas no more to seye.
Thus am I slayn, sith that Pite is deed;