Excuse me of necgligence
Towardes love in alle wise:
For thogh I be non of the wise, 920
I am so trewly amerous,
That I am evere curious
Of hem that conne best enforme
To knowe and witen al the forme,
What falleth unto loves craft.
Bot yit ne fond I noght the haft,
Which mihte unto that bladd acorde;[1176]