Thei sorwen now, and yit have noght the more;
The blod is schad, which no man mai restore.
The werre is modir of the wronges alle;
It sleth the prest in holi chirche at masse,
Forlith the maide and doth hire flour to falle.[1926]
The werre makth the grete Citee lasse,
And doth the lawe his reules overpasse. 110
There is no thing wherof meschef mai growe
Which is noght caused of the werre, y trowe.
The werre bringth in poverte at hise hieles,