A dere herte I maye complayne ryght longe
you here me not / nor se me not arayed
Nor causes my paynes for to be stronge
It was myn eyes / that made me fyrst dysmayde
With stroke of loue / that coude not me delaye
My ryght fayre lady / my herte is colde and faynt
Wolde now to god / that you knewe my complaynte
Thus as I mourned I herde a lady speke
I loked asyde I sawe my lady gracyous
My herte than fared / as it sholde breke