Was fele hundred wintre an helle a pine ⁊ unwenne.
Þo þe ladeð here lif mid unrihte ⁊ mid wronge
Bute hit godes milce do hie sulle wunie þar longe.
215 Godes wisdom is wel muchel ⁊ alsse is his mihte
Ac nis his mihte nowiht lasse ac biðer ilke wihte.
More he one maiȝ forȝieue þan alle folc gulte cunne
Self deuel mihte habben milce ȝief he hit bigunne.
Þeþe godes milche secð iwis he mai hes finden
220 Ac helle king is ore leas wið þo þe he mai binden.
Se deð his wille mast he sal habbe werest mede