Bot nou our feerfull prelat seith, 1860
‘The lif is suete,’ and that he kepeth,
So that the feith unholpe slepeth,
And thei unto here ese entenden
And in here lust her lif despenden,
And every man do what him list.
Thus stant this world fulfild of Mist,
That noman seth the rihte weie:
The wardes of the cherche keie
Thurgh mishandlinge ben myswreynt,