But who was than evel apayd but I?
'Now god,' quod I, 'that dyëd on the crois
Yeve sorow on thee, and on thy lewde vois!
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For litel joye have I now of thy cry.'
And as I with the cukkow thus gan chyde,
I herde, in the nexte bush besyde,
A Nightingalë so lustily singe
That with her clere vois she made ringe
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