Many one wryteth trouthe / yet cõforte hath he none

Wherfore I fere me / lyke a swarme of bees

Wylde fyre wyll lyght amonge a thousande pees

||

 ¶ Sepe expugnauerunt me a iuuentute mea: et enim non potuerunt michi.

 As the cantycles maketh good mencyon

They haue oft expugned me / syth my yonge age

Yet coude they haue me / in theyr domynyon

Though many a one / vnhappely do rage

They shall haue sorowe that shytte me in a cage

In a grete dyspyte of the holy goost

He maye them brenne / theyr calkynge is but loost

 ¶ Supra dorsum meũ fabricauerũt peccatores: prolongauerũt iniquitatẽ suã.

 Vpon my backe synners hath fabrysed

They haue prolonged theyr grete inyquyte

From daye to daye it is not my mynysshed

Wherfore for vengeaunce by grete extremyte

It cryeth aboue / now vnto the deyte

Whiche that his mynysters haue suffred so longe

To lyue in synne and euyll wayes wronge

 Prev. P 31/55 next