cur

Of the subtyll beestes / full of inyquyte

In the olde tyme what snares were there sette

By fals calkynge / to dystroye lordes grete

 Than after this to the yron gynne

I wente anone my wyte for to proue

By lytell and lytell / to vndo euery pynne

Thus in and out / I dyde the chayne ofte moue

Yet coude I not come / vnto myne aboue

Tyll at the last / I dyde the crafte espy

Vndoynge the pynnes / & chayne full meruaylously

 Full gladde was I than / whan I had this floure

I kyst it oft / I behelde the coloure grene

It swaged ryght well / myn inwarde doloure

Myn eyes conforted / with the bryghtnes I wene

This ryall floure / this emeraude to shene

Whan I had goten it by my prudence

Ryght gladde I was / of fortunes premynence

 O fortune sayd I / thou art ryght fauorable

For many a one / hath ben by symylytude

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