And with theyr tonges cause of grete trouble
This brytell worlde ay full of bytternes
Alway turnynge lyke to a ball
No man in it can haue no sykernes
For whan he clymmeth he hath a fall
O wauerynge shadowe bytter as gall
O fatall welth full soone at ende
Though thou ryght hy do oft assende
Whan she to me had made relacyon
Of all these prouerbes by good conclusyon