Shewyth nowe adayes howe the worlde comberyd is,
To the pythe of the mater who lyst to resorte;
To day it is well, to morowe it is all amysse,
To day in delyte, to morowe bare of blysse,
To day a lorde, to morowe ly in the duste;
Thus in this worlde there is no erthly truste;
To day fayre wether, to morowe a stormy rage,
To day hote, to morowe outragyous colde, 2570
To day a yoman, to morowe made of page,
To day in surety, to morowe bought and solde,