On his rith shuldre sw[iþ]e[95] brith,
Brithter þan gold ageyn þe lith.
So þat he wiste heye and lowe,
Þat it was kunrik þat he sawe.
It sparkede, and ful brith shon,
So doth þe gode charbucle ston,
It was light enough to choose a penny by.
Þat men Mouthe se by þe lith,
A peni chesen, so was it brith.
Þanne bihelden he him faste,