Wiþ his ere and wiþ his eye
A pore man for honger crye,
Man þat eteþ and drinkeþ his fille
And let þe pore man stonde stille
And myhte helpe him and nille —
Þe holy bok sheweþ it be skille:
Þat is glotonye and sinne,
Suche lyf who so is inne.
Long it were forto dwelle,
Alle þe articles forto telle
Þat þer comeþ of glotonye,
Nou shole ȝe here of lecherye!
Þer nis noman so wys in londe
Þat may make to vnderstonde
Lewed men, what lecherie is,
Þei nile not leouen it ywis.
Þei seyen often þat men may here
Þat sengel man and womman in fere
Þat beo togedere and children winne,
Þat it is no dedly sinne.
And al þat out of wedlok is,
It is dedly sinne ywis,
Horedam and lecherie,
Or ellus mot holy writ lye.
Þanne wile somme seye þus
And despute aȝein Iesus,
Þo þat thinke sinne suete
Seie þat god almyghty hete
Þat man and womman in compaignye
Sholde þe world multeplie,
Echon wiþ oþer don his kynde.
Bot on point þei leue behinde,
And is a gret poynt ywis,
Soþeliche wiþ outen les,
And if ȝe wilen holde ȝoure pees,
On þing ȝe shol witen ywis:
Þat a kinde þing it is, where man is lef,
Forto ete motoun or beof;
Bot on þing þer is, be god:
And a man ete it vnsode,
