Wolde God that hyt were so
As I cowde wysshe bytuyxt us two

The man that I loved al ther best
In al thys contre, est other west,
To me he ys a strange gest.
What wonder est thow I be wo?

When me were levest that he shold duelle
He wold noyht sey onys far welle
He wold noyht sey onys farewell
When tyme was come that he wold go.

In places ofte when I hym mete
I dar noyht speke but forth I go
With herte and eyes I hym grete
So trywe of love I know no mo

As he ys myn hert love
My dyrward dyre, iblessed he be,
I swere by God that ys above
Non hath my love but only he.

I am Icomfortyd in every syde
The colures wexeth both fres and newe
When he ys come and wyl abyde
I wott ful wel that he ys trywe.

I love hym trywely and no mo
Wolde God that he hyt knywe:
And ever I hope hyt schal be so
Then schal I chaunge for no new.