That lustely they lepe somtyme theyr cloyster wall.
Hic aliquis buccat in cornu a retro post populum.
Yonder is a horson for me doth rechate:
Adewe, syrs, for I thynke leyst that I come to late.[859]
Magn. O good Lorde, howe longe shall I indure
This mysery, this carefull wrechydnesse? 2180
Of worldly welthe, alasse, who can be sure?
In Fortunys frendshyppe there is no stedfastnesse:
She hath dyssayuyd me with her doublenesse.
For to be wyse all men may lerne of me,