His berd as blak as fethers of the crow;

His name was Lust, of wounder might and strength;

And with Delyt to argue there he thenkth,

For this was all his [hool] opinion,

That love was sin! and so he hath begon

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To reson fast, and legge auctoritè:

'Nay,' quod Delyt, 'love is a vertue clere,

And from the soule his progress holdeth he:

Blind appetyt of lust doth often stere,