Hevyn and erth and all that here me plain

Hevyn and erth and all that here me plain,
Do well perceve what care doeth cause me cry.
Save you alone, to whome I cry in vain,
Mercy ! madame alas, I dy ! I dy !

If that you slepe, I humbly you require
Forbere, a while, and let your rigor slake;
Syns that by you I burn thus in this fyer.
To here my plaint, dere hert, awake ! awake !

Syns that so ofte ye have made me to wake
In plaint and teres, and in right pitious case.
Displease you not if force do now me make
To breke your slepe crieng alas ! alas !

It is the last trouble that you shall have
Of me, madame, to here my last complaint;
Pitie at lest your poure unhappy slave
For in dispere alas I faint ! I faint

It is not now but long and long ago,
I have you served as to my powre and myght,
As faithfully as any man might do,
Clayming of you nothing of right, of right.

Save of your grace only to save my liff
That fleith as fast as clowd afore the wynde
For sins that first I entred in this stryff
An inward deth hath fret my mynde, my mynd.

If I had suffred this to you, unware,
Myn were the fawte and you nothing to blame
But syns you know my woo and all my care
Why do I dy alas for shame, for shame.

I know right well my face, my lowke, my teres,
Myn lyes, my Wordes, and eke my drery chiere,
Have cryd my deth full oft into your eres.
Herd of belefe it doeth appere, appere.

A better prouff I se that ye would have
How I ame dede ; therefore when ye here tell
Beleve it not, all tho ye se my grave
Cruell ; unkynd ! I say farewell ! farewell !