So Was Hir Jolly Whistel Wel Y-wette.

Oon Ere It Herde, At Tother Out It Went.

Ful Wys Is He That Kan Hymselven Knowe.

Men Sholde Nat Knowe Of Goddes Pryvetee Ye, Blessed Be Alwey, A Lewed Man That Noght But Oonly His Believe Kan! So Ferde Another Clerk With Astromye, He Walked In The Feelds, For To Prye Upon The Sterres, What Ther Sholde Bifalle, Til He Was In A Marle-pit Yfalle.

Or As An Ook Comth Of A Litel Spir, So Thorugh This Lettre, Which That She Hym Sente, Encressen Gan Desir, Of Which He Brente.

It Is Nought Good A Sleping Hound To Wake.