Classic Poem

No more ne will I wicked be;
Forsake ich wille this worldes fee,
This wildes wedes, this folen glee.
Ich wul be mild of chere;
Of knottes shall my girdil be:
Becomen ich will frere.

Frer menur I will me make,
And lecherie I wille asake;
To Jhesu Crist ich will me take
And serve in holy churche:
All in my houres for to wake,
Goddes wille to wurche.

Wurche I wille this workes gode,
For him that bought us in the rode;
Fram his side ran the blode,
So dere he gan us bie.
For sothe I tell him mor than wode
That hanteth licherie.