God forbede we be now wroþe,
We meten so selden by stok oþer ston. 20
Þaȝ cortaysly ȝe carp con,
I am bot mol and [manereȝ] mysse;
Bot Crystes mersy, and Mary, and Ion,
Þise arn þe grounde of alle my blysse.
'In blysse I se þe blyþely blent, 25
And I a man al mornyf mate;
Ȝe take þeron ful lyttel tente,
Þaȝ I hente ofte harmeȝ hate.