My hope, Alas, hath me abused

My hope, Alas, hath me abused
And vain rejoysing hath me fed ;
Lust and joye have me refused,
And carefull plaint is in their stede ;
To muche avauncing slaked my spede ;
Myrth hath caused my hevines,
And I remain all comfortles.

Whereto did I assure my thought
Withoute displeasure stedfastly,
In fortunes forge my Joye was wrought
And is revolted redely,
I ame mystaken wonderly;
For I, tho nought but faithfulnes,
Yet I remain all comfortless.

In gladsome chere I did delite
Till that delite did cause my smert ;
And all was wrong where I thought right.
For right it was, that my true hert
Should not from trouth be set apart,
Syns trouth did cause me hardines
Yet I remain all comfortles.

Sometime delight did tune my song,
And led my hert full plesauntly,
And to my self I saide among,
My happ is comyng hastely.
But it hath happed contrary :
Assuraunce causeth my distres.
And I remain all comfortles.

Than if my note now do vary,
And leve his wonted plesauntnes.
The hevy burden that I cary,
Hath alterd all my Joyefulnes;
No pleasure hath still stedfastnes,
But hast hath hurt my happines.
And I remain all comfortles.