He was thanne of a buissh wel paied,
The harde ground he lay upon,
For othre pilwes hath he non;
P. i. 143
The stormes and the Reines falle,
The wyndes blowe upon him alle,[491]
He was tormented day and nyht,
Such was the hihe goddes myght,[492] 2990
Til sevene yer an ende toke.
Upon himself tho gan he loke;