Now all of change

Now all of change
Must be my songe,
And from mye bonde no we must I breke,
Sins she so strange
Unto my wrong
Doth stop her eris to here me speke.

Yet none doth kno
So well as she
My greffe wiche can have no restralnte ;
That faine wolde folio
No we nedes must file.
For faute of ere unto my playnte.

I am not he
By fals assayes
Nor faynid faith can bere in hande,
Tho most I see
That such alwaies
Are best for to be understonde.

But I that truth
Hath alwaies ment,
Doeth still precede to serve in vayne.
Desire pursuith
My tyme mispent,
And doeth not passe upon my payne.

O fortunes might
That eche compellis,
And me the most yt doeth suffice
Now for my ryght
To aske nought ells.
But to withdraw this enterprise :

And for the gaine
Of that good howre,
Wiche of my woo shall be relefe,
I shall refrayne
Bye paynefull powre,
The thing that must have bene my grefe.

I shall not miss
To exersyse
The helpe therof that doth me teche.
That after this
In any wise
To kepe ryght within my reche.

And she injuste,
Which ferith not,
Yn this her fame to be defilyd,
Yett ons I trust
Shalbe my lott.
To quite the craft that me begilid.