The Gouler's Requiem

Mie boolie entes, adieu! ne moe the syghte
Of guilden merke shall mete mie joieous eyne,
Ne moe the sylver noble sheenynge bryghte
Schall fyll mie honde with weight to speke ytt fyne;
Ne moe, ne moe, alass! I call you myne:
Whydder must you, ah! whydder must I goe?
I kenn not either; oh mie emmers dygne,
To parte wyth you wyll wurcke mee myckle woe;
I muste be gonne, botte whare I dare ne telle;
O storthe unto mie mynde! I goe to helle.

Soone as the morne dyd dyghte the roddie sunne,
A shade of theves eche streake of lyght dyd seeme;
Whann ynn the heavn full half hys course was runn,
Eche stirryng nayghbour dyd mie harte afleme;
Thye loss, or quyck or slepe, was aie mie dreme;
For thee, O gould, I dyd the lawe ycrase;
For thee I gotten or bie wiles or breme;
Ynn thee I all mie joie and good dyd place;
Botte now to mee thie pleasaunce ys ne moe,
I kenne notte botte for thee I to the quede must goe.