reson thilke maters maynteyne, in whiche mayntenaunce [they]
glorien them-selfe; and, as often ye haven sayd, therof ought
nothing in yvel to be layd to me-wardes, sithen as repentaunt
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I am tourned, and no more I thinke, neither tho thinges ne
none suche other to sustene, but utterly distroye, without medlinge
maner, in al my mightes. How am I now cast out of al
swetnesse of blisse, and mischevously [is] stongen my passed
joy! Soroufully muste I bewayle, and live as a wrecche.
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