Your yen two wol slee me sodenly;
I may the beautee of hem not sustene,
So woundeth hit thourghout my herte kene.
And but your word wol helen hastily
My hertes wounde while that hit is grene,
Your yen [two wol slee me sodenly;
I may the beautee of hem not sustene].
Upon my trouthe I sey you feithfully
That ye ben of my lyf and deeth the quene,
For with my deeth the trouthe shal be sene.
Your yen [two wol slee me sodenly;
I may the beautee of hem not sustene,
So woundeth it thourghout my herte kene].
