For of othing he tok yeme,
Never mot, in sonne beme,
Thicker than the fendes yede.
The brigge was as heigh as a tour,
And as scharpe as a rasour,
And naru it was also;
And the water that ther ran under,
Brend o' lighting and of thonder,
That thoght him michel wo.
Ther nis no clerk may write with ynke,