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They saith that youth ruleth me tight
That all my mind thereby asleep
Yet wager I that thou, my love
Quit in a trice my weary weep.

Thou’s only who doth guess
Wherefore, alas, am I so gloom,
What is my inward heaviness
Wherewith to cease this grievous doom.

With ye saint bless and subtle say
Whatsoever they are to device
I shall enrapture thou and crave
For all my meek and humbled life.

Please don’t compel me to withdraw
Wilt your disdain, be condescend,
I’ll forfend thou for evermore
And bliss obtain at our last end.