CAUSER / BALADES DE VILAGE SANZ PEINTURE
¶ This wrecched worlde-is transmutacioun
As wele / or wo / now poeere and now honour
With-owten ordyr or wis descresyoun
Gouerned is by fortunes errour
But natheles the lakke of hyr fauowr̛
Ne may nat don me syngen thowh I. deye [fol. 53b]
Iay tout perdu moun temps et moun labour
For fynaly fortune .I. the deffye
¶ Yit is me left the lyht of my resoun
To knowen frend fro foo in thi merowr̛
So mochel hath yit thy whirlynge vp and down
I-tawht me for to knowe in an howr
But trewely no fors of thi reddowr̛
To hym þat ouer hym self hath the maystrye
My suffysaunce shal be my socour̛
For fynaly fortune I. thee deffye
¶ O socrates þou stidfast chaumpyoun
She neuer myht[e] be thi tormentowr
Thow neuer dreddest hyr oppressyoun
Ne in hyr chere fownde thow no sauour̛
Thow knewe wel the deseyte of hyr colour̛
And þat hir most[e] worshipe is to lye
I knew hir ek a fals dissimulour̛
For fynaly fortune .I. the deffye