O blesful sterre persaunt and ful of light Of beames gladsom, deuoyder of derknes Chief recomfort after the blak nyght To wyde woful hertes out of theyr heuynes Take now good hede lady and goddesse So that my bille may your grace attayne Redresse to fynde of that I me compleyne For I am bounde to thing that I nolde Frely to chese ther lack I liberte And so I want of that myn herte wolde The body is knyt, thougħ my thought be fre So that I muste of necessite My hertes lyst outward contrarye Thougħ we be oon the dede muste varye My worship sauf I faylle election Agayn al right botħ of god and kynde Therto be knyt vnder subiection For whens for botħ ar out of mynde My thought gotħ furtħ my body is behynde For I am here, and yond my remembrance Betwene two so hange I in balance Deuoyde of Ioye, of woo I haue plente What I desire, that may I not possede For that I nolde is redy ay to me And that I loue, for to sue I drede To my desire contrary is my mede And thus I stonde departed in tweyne Of wyƚƚ and dede ylaced in a cheyne For thougħ I brenne witħ feruence & hete Witħyn myn herte I mote compleyne of colde And by excesse thougħ I swelte and swete Me to compleyne god wote I am not bolde Vnto no wight, ner one word vnfolde Of al my peyne, allas the hard stounde The hotter that I brenne, [the] colder is my wounde For he that hatħ myn hert feytħfully And hool my loue in al honeste Witħoute chaunge al be hit secretly I haue no space witħ hym for to be O lady venus consider now and see Vnto theffecte and compleynt of my byƚƚ Sitħ lyf and detħ I put aƚƚ in thy wyƚƚ And tho me thought the goddes did enclyne Mekely her hede and softly gan expresse That in short tyme her torment shold fyne And how of hym for whom al her distresse Contynned had and al her heuynesse She shold haue Ioye and of her purgatorye Be holpen sone and so lyue fortħ in glorye And said doughter for thy sad trouthe Thy faitħful menyng and Innocence That planted be witħ outen ony slouthe In your persone deuoyed of al offence So han they atteyned to our audience That witħ our grace ye shal be wel releuyd I you behete of al that hatħ you greuyd And for that ye be euer of one entent Witħoute chaunge or mutabilyte And in your paynes ben so pacient To take lowly your aduersyte And that so longe thurgh the cruelte Of olde saturne my fader vnfortuned Your woo shal now no lenger be contuned And thinketħ this witħ in a litil whyle Hit shal aswage and ouer passen sone For men by laysir passen many a myle And ofte after a droppyng mone The weder cleretħ, and whan [the] storme is done The sonne shynetħ in his spyer bright And Ioye waketħ whan woo is putto flight Remembre eke how neuer yet no wight Ne cam to worship witħ out som debate And folke reioyse also more of light That they witħ derknes were waped & mate No mañs chañce is allewey fortunate Ne no wight preysetħ of sugre the swetnes But they to fore haue tasted bitternes