A ! my herte, a ! what aileth the

A ! my herte, a ! what aileth the
To sett so light my libertye.
Making me bonde when I was fre.
A my herte a ! what aileth thee.

When thou ware rid from all distresse,
Voyde of all paine and pensifnesse,
To chose againe a new mistresse.
A my herte a ! what aileth thee.

When thou ware well, thou could not hold
To torne agayne that ware too bolde,
Thus to renue my sorowes olde.
A my herte a I what aileth thee.

Thou knoist full well that but of late
I was tornid out of loves gate,
And now to guide me to this mate !
A my herte a ! what aileth thee.

I hopte full well all had ben done,
But now my hope is tane and won,
To my torment to yelde so sone.
A my herte a ! what aileth thee.