Þat wondis þoliid fiue;
For ȝe beþ trenne worþi to brenne
In bittir helle kiue.
Godde ȝow hauiþ to erþe isent,
Litil dwel ȝov hauiþ ilent,
He schal wit, how hit is spent,
I rede ȝou, tak hede.
If hit be hidde, ȝe beþ ischent,
For helle worþ ȝur mede.
Þe bow is bend, þe fire itend
To ȝow, if ȝe beþ gnede;
Bot ȝe [ȝeu, Ms. ȝeu (? ȝen)] amend, ȝe sul be wend
In euer glowind glede.
Pouir was þin incomming,
So ssal be þin outegoing,
Þou ne ssalt [salt] of al þi þing
A peni ber to molde.
Þat is a rewful tiþing,
Whose hit hire wold.
Louerd king, to hori ding
What makiþ man so hold?
In pining ȝiue a ferþing
He ne sal, þeȝ he wold.
Riche man beþenche þe,
Tak gode hede, wat þou be!
Þou ne art bot a brotil tre
Of schorte seuen fote,
Ischrid wiþ vte wiþ gold and fe —
Þe ax is at þe rote;
Þe fent vnfre halt al to gle
Þis tre adun to rote.
So mote ich þe, ich rede þe: fle,
And do þi [this] sowle is bote.
Now þou art in ro and rest, [folio 9b]
Of al þe lond þou art þe mest,
Þou doist no streinþ of god [Godis] is hest;
