And though that I, for very ignoraunce,
Ne may discryve her vertues by and by,
Yet on this day, for a rémembraunce,
Only supported under her mercy,
With quaking hondë, I shal ful humbly
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To her hynesse, my rudenes for to quyte,
A litel balade here bineth endyte,
Ever as I can suppryse in my herte,
Alway with fere, betwixe drede and shame,