Of pure sorwe, which I drye
For that sche seith sche wol me noght,
With drecchinge of myn oghne thoght
In such a wanhope I am falle,
That I ne can unethes calle,
As forto speke of eny grace,[1423]
Mi ladi merci to pourchace. 3480
Bot yit I seie noght for this
That al in mi defalte it is;
For I cam nevere yit in stede,