At lucifer, though he an angel were,
And nat a man, at hym wol I bigynne.
For though fortune may noon angel dere,
From heigh degree yet fel he for his synne
Doun into helle, where he yet is inne.
O lucifer, brightest of angels alle,
Now artow sathanas, that mayst nat twynne
Out of miserie, in which that thou art falle.