Wherfore, me thinke, ye can do no lesse
But with your love his paynes to redres.
If ye do not, this may be his songe;
Wo worth the time that ever he you met;
Wo worth your hert so doing him wrong;
Wo worth the houre that his true herte was set;
Wo worth dysdayne that wold his purpose let;
Wo worth the flour that can do no bote;
Wo worth you that perst him at the route.
Wo worth my love, the cause of my sorow;