Thogh he no wordes myhte winne,
Thus seide his herte and spak withinne:
‘O mihti godd, that al hast wroght
And al myht bringe ayein to noght,
Now knowe I wel, bot al of thee,
This world hath no prosperite:
In thin aspect ben alle liche,
The povere man and ek the riche,[495] 3010
Withoute thee ther mai no wight,[496]
And thou above alle othre miht.