Classic Poem

The thyrd sorowe.

FOrth now than goeth this wofull creature
To the thyrd sorowe. I may you well ensure
In to the chyrche and sytteth in a pewe
Full often than chaungeth all her hewe
For veray fayntnes, or is to harde enbraced
Would God sayth she that I were vnlaced
Or els may chaunce with chylde that she go
Of .x. wekes tyme, or haply of mo
Or els some qualme may in her stomacke ryseAs women haue in many dyuers wyse
But for all that this wydowe sytteth styll
Puttyng her selfe all in goddes wyll
Hearyng deuoutly the deuyne songe
A Iesu mercy thys seruyce is longe
And she is very sycke and would be thence
In fayth I had leuer than .xl. pence
She were awaye, so I might her excuse
But not so, she will her selfe sadly vse
Men shal not say tha t she would fayne be ryde
Her sorowes shal be womanly hyde
And in her prayers, her selfe occupy
Ne were it so that the beggers cry
On her so faste and let her for to pray
With some good man haue these folke away
I neuer sawe such folke, and so lewde
With stande at the dore knaues al be shrewde
Ye troble this woman, and it is no nede
Come to morowe and ye may haply spede
Thus is thys woman troublously arayde
Tyll that the last dyryge is sayde
And wyth the corps walketh to the pytte
But than in dede harde is to forgette
Alas sayth she, all this busines.

Nowe were me leuer for to die than lyfe
Now wyll I all my goodes away gyue
The mantyll and ryng, now wyll I take
Alas alas, now must I leue my make
Fare well my Ioye, thou art gone for euer
Ah my pore herte in sonder wyll sheuer
Ah fals death, why haste thou hym so slayne
And leueth me here in thys most woful payne
Thus nethelesse, this man is layde alowe
And than th e priest earth vpo n him doth throw
She seyng that loketh full heuely
Vpon the clerke, and wofully doth crye
A good swete man, please it the trinite
That I were layd vpryght vnder thee
Whan this is done though it be to her payne
As wo full as she went, she must go home a gayne.