A! systyr Magdalyn, what is ȝour reed?
What whith may helpe oure hevynes,
Now that oure brother is gon and deed?
Magdalyn. Alas! dere systyr, I cannot telle;
The best comforte that I can sey,
But sum man do us sle and qwelle,
Lete us ly down by hym and dey.
Alas! why went he alone awey?
If we had deyd with hym also,
Than had oure care alle turnyd to pley,