Have writen to your estats, yet I you praye,
Myn unconning taketh benignëly
For goddes sake, and herken what I seye.
I complayn sore, whan I remembre me
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The sodeyn age that is upon me falle;
More I complayn my mispent juventè
The whiche is impossible ayein to calle.
But certainly, the most complaynte of alle
Is for to thinke, that I have been so nyce