If I did wel, yet felte I no plesaunce;
It caused neither joy nor hevinesse.
For whan she dyed, that was my good maistresse,
Al my welfare than made the same purchas;
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The deeth hath set my boundes, of witnes,
Which for no-thing myn hert shal never pas.'
In this gret thought, sore troubled in my mynde,
Aloon thus rood I al the morow-tyde,
Til at the last it happed me to fynde