The teres gonne fro myn eyen rayne
580
Ful pitously, for very inward routhe
That I him saw so languisshing for trouthe.
And al this whyle my-self I kepte cloos
Among the bowes, and my-self gan hyde,
Til, at the laste, the woful man aroos,
585
And to a logge wente ther besyde,
Where, al the May, his custome was t'abyde,