The Lyf so short, the craft so long to Lerne,
Th’assay so hard, so sharp the conquerynge,
The dredful joye, alwey that slit so yerne,
Al this mene I by love, that my felynge
Astonyeth with his wonderful werkynge
So sore iwis, that whan I on him thinke,
Nat wot I wel wher that I flete or synke.