4339 That to the tylyers is fordone
4340 The hope that he hadde to soone.
4341 I drede, certeyn, that so fare I;
4342 ffor hope and travaile sikerlye
4343 Ben me byraft all with a storme;
4344 The floure nel seeden of my corne.
4345 ffor love hath so avaunced me,
4346 Whanne I bigan my pryvite
4347 To Bialacoil all forto telle,
4348 Whom I ne fonde froward ne felle,
4349 But toke a gree all hool my play.
4350 But love is of so hard Assay,
4351 That all at oonys he reved me,
4352 Whanne I wente best aboven to have be.
4353 It is of love, as of fortune,
4354 That chaungeth ofte, and nyl contune;
4355 Which whilom wole on folk smyle,
4356 And glowmbe on hem a nother while;
4357 Now freend, now foo, shalt hir feele,
4358 ffor a twynklyng turne hir wheele.
4359 She can writhe hir heed Awey,
4360 This is the concours of hir pley;
4361 She canne arise that doth morne,
4362 And whirle adown, and over turne