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XI

[Ffarewell, the rayn of crueltie!]

Ffarewell, the rayn of crueltie!
Though that with pain my libertie
Dere have I boght, yet shall surete
Conduyt my thoght of Joyes nede.
Of force I must forsake pleasure
A goode cause just syns I endure
Thereby my woo, which be ye sure
Shall therewith goo, me to recure.

12

I fare as oon escaped that fleith,
Glad that is gone yet still fereth,
Spied to be cawght, and so dredeth
That he for nought his pain leseth.
In joyfull pain reioyse myn hert,
Thus to sustain of eche a part;
Let not this song from the estert;
Welcome emong my plaisaunt smert.