I toke my leve and to a temple wente,
And all alone I to my selfe dyd saye:
Alas! what fortune hath me hyther sente,
To devoyde my joye and my hert torment;
No man can tell howe great payne it is,
But yf he wyll fele it, as I do ywys.
Alas! O lady, how cruell arte thou,
Of pyteous doloure for to buylde a nest
In my true hert, as thou dost ryght nowe!
Yet of all ladyes I must love the best;