<[I]> sygh and sob, bath day and nyght, for ane sa fayre of hew!
Þar es na thyng my hert mai light, bot lufe þat es ay new. 70
Wha sa had Hym in his syght, or in his hert Hym knew,
His mournyng turned til ioy ful bryght, his sang intil glew.
In myrth he lyfes, nyght and day, þat lufes þat swete chylde;
It es Iesu, forsoth I say, of al mekest and mylde.
Wreth fra hym walde al away, þof he wer neuer sa wylde, 75
He þat in hert lufed Hym þat day, fra euel He wil hym schylde.
Of Iesu mast lyst me speke, þat al my bale may bete;
Me thynk my hert may al tobreke when I thynk on þat swete;