4339   That to the tylyers is fordone
4340   The hope that he hadde to soone.
4341   I drede, certeyn, that so fare I;
4342   ffor hope and travaile sikerlye
4343   Ben me byraft all with a storme;
4344   The floure nel seeden of my corne.
4345   ffor love hath so avaunced me,
4346   Whanne I bigan my pryvite
4347   To Bialacoil all forto telle,
4348   Whom I ne fonde froward ne felle,
4349   But toke a gree all hool my play.
4350   But love is of so hard Assay,
4351   That all at oonys he reved me,
4352   Whanne I wente best aboven to have be.
4353   It is of love, as of fortune,
4354   That chaungeth ofte, and nyl contune;
4355   Which whilom wole on folk smyle,
4356   And glowmbe on hem a nother while;
4357   Now freend, now foo, shalt hir feele,
4358   ffor a twynklyng turne hir wheele.
4359   She can writhe hir heed Awey,
4360   This is the concours of hir pley;
4361   She canne arise that doth morne,
4362   And whirle adown, and over turne