And how a litling child mote be
A saint er its nativitie,
Gif that the modre—God her blesse!—
Kepen in solitarinesse,
And kissen devoute the holy croce—
Of Goddės love, and Sathan's force,—
He writith; and thinges many mo,
Of swichė thinges I may not show.
Bot I must tellen verilie
Somdel of Saintė Cicilie,