I fynde no peace and all my warr is done

I fynde no peace and all my warr is done,
I fere and hope, I burn and freise like yse,
I fley above the wynde, yet can I not arrise,
And noght I have and all the worold I seson ;

That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison;
And holdeth me not ; yet can I scape nowise :
Nor letteth me lyve nor dye at my devise :
And yet of deth it gyveth me occasion.

Withoute lyen I se ; and withoute tong I plain :
I desire to perisshe, and yet I aske helthe;
I love an othr : and thus I hate myself;

I fede me in sorrowe : and laughe in all my pain :
Likewise displeaseth me boeth deth and lyff :
And my delite is causer of this stryff.