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;