For haif[1511], ye heir, is haldin half a fill.
I speik not this as trouing for to tyre;
Bot as the forger[1512], vhen he feeds his fyre,
With sparks of water maks it burne more bald[1513];
So sueet denyall doubillis bot desyr,
And quickins curage fra becomming cald.
Wald ye be made of, ye man[1514] mak it nyce;
For dainties heir ar delicat and deir,
Bot plentie[1515] things ar prysde to litill pryce.
Then, thoght ye hearken, let no wit ye heir,