Ther ys harpë nor gyterne, [Stowe folio 251b]
Line 14264
Symphonyë, nouther crowde,
Whan ye lyst to syngë lowde,
Ys to me so gracyous,
So swete, nor melodius
Line 14268
As ys your song with notys clere;
And I am komen ffor to here,
Off entent, in-to thys place,
A lytel motet with your grace.'
Line 14272
'And whan the Ravene hadde herknyd wel
The ffoxys spechë euerydel,—
As she that koudë nat espye
Hys tresoun nor hys fflaterye, [[fflatrye C., St.]] —
Line 14276
ffor to synge she dyde hyr peyne,
And gan hyr throtë for to streyne,
And ther-with maade an owgly soun,
Ther whyles the chesë fyl a-doun,
Line 14280
And the ffox, lyk hys entente,
Took the chese, and forth he wente.
'And thys deceyt (yiff yt be souht,)
Was only by my bylwes wrouht,
Line 14284
With falsë [[fals C., St.]] wynd off trecherye,
Thorgh the blast off fflaterye, [[fflatrye C., St.]]
The wych, with hys sugryd galle,
Euery vertu doth appalle
Line 14288
And bet yt doun on every syde.
'Ther-for lat no man abyde
The wyndes, that ben so peryllous,
Off thys belwys contagyous;
Line 14292
Lat ech man, (in especyal,)
Consydren that he ys mortal,
And thynkë [[thynke St., thynk C.]] that swych wynd in-dede [Stowe folio 252a]
Bloweth But on asshes dede,
Line 14296
That wyl with lytel blast a-ryse,
And dysparpyle in many wyse; [folio 217a]
And affter swych dyspersïoun
Al goth in-to perdicïoun.
Line 14300
'Thys belwes ek (yt ys no drede)
Causeth (who-so taketh hede)
Bombardys and cornemusys,
