169. Fortune Has Cast Me from Weal to Woe
[_]
Cambridge Univ. MS. Ff. 1. 6
A god whene
My-self walkyng all allone,
ffull of thoght, of Ioy desperat,
To my hert makyng my moone,
How I am the most Infortunat,
And how ffortune his cruell hate
Hath to me caste, & broght hit soo
That I am kome fro wele to woo.
ffro al gladnesse & comfort
Y am now broght in-to distres;
‘ffye one myrth & on disport!’
Thus seyth my hert for heuynes,
Seyng þer is no sekyrnesse
Of worldly welth, ho takyth hede—
Which ofte causyth myne hert to blede.
And thus I stond, ffulfylde with sorow
With-in my mynd to my gret payne,
Wepyng both even & morow
With swollyne hert, when I refrayne
With woofull teris which can nat ffayne:
Soo haue I lost my Countenaunce
Of all the world to my plesance.
