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Fortune the back him turned, and there- In tender youth how she was first my foe, fore And eft my friend, and how I got recure
He maketh joy and comfort that he quits Of my distress, and all my aventure1
To fortune both and to infortune hable,1
Wist thou thy pain to come and thy travail,
The rockis clepe1 I, the prolixity
For sorrow and dread well might thou The lack of wind is the difficulty,
weep and wail.
Thus stant thy comfort in unsekerness,3 And wantis it, that should thee rule and gye, 4
Right as the ship that saileth steerless, Upon the rock must to harms hye, 5 For lack of it that should been her supply; So standis thou here in this worldis rage, And wantis that should guide all thy viage.
I mean this of myself, as in party, Though nature gave me suffisance in youth,
The ripeness of reason lacked I
To govern with my will, so lyte I couth,7 When steerless to travel I begouth,8 Among the waves of this world to drive; And how the case, anon I will discrive.
In vere 5 that full of virtue is and good,
With doubtful heart, among the rockis And Cynthius beginneth to arise