I krepe hem to my stynkyng stalle,
Helle pyt and hevyn halle,
Xul do thi byddyng bone.
I ffalle downe here a ffowle freke,
ffor this ffalle I gynne to qweke,
With a ffart my breche I breke,
My sorwe comyth ful sone.
Deus. ffor ȝour synne that ȝe have do,
Out of this blysse sone xal ȝe go,
In erthely labour to levyn in wo,