Love
I am a fool, I can no good:
Who that me loveth, I holde him wood.
I brenne hot, I smite sore:
Who that me loveth shal thee no more.
Dredful deth out of me sprong,
For I am welle of wo;
I slow a wise king, fair and strong,
And yet I shal slee mo.
Who that me loveth, I holde him wood.
I brenne hot, I smite sore:
Who that me loveth shal thee no more.
Dredful deth out of me sprong,
For I am welle of wo;
I slow a wise king, fair and strong,
And yet I shal slee mo.
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