I dyde dysprayse / to knowe theyr cruelte
Somwhat to wysdome / accordynge to behest
Though that my body had but lytell rest
My herte was trewe vnto my ladyes blood
For all theyr dedes I thought no thynge but good
Some had wende the hous for to swepe
Nought was theyr besom / I holde it set on fyre
The inwarde wo in to my herte dyde crepe
To god aboue / I made my hole desyre
Saynge o good lorde of heuenly empyre