Som time ayer hath love in his demeine,
So that the litel wrenne in his mesure
Hath yit of kinde a love under his cure;[1701]
And I bot on desire, of which I misse:
And thus, bot I, hath every kinde his blisse. 2230
P. iii. 350
The resoun of my wit it overpasseth,
Of that Nature techeth me the weie
To love, and yit no certein sche compasseth
Hou I schal spede, and thus betwen the tweie