I have set my hert so hye,
Me liketh no love that lowere is;
And alle the paines that I may drye,
Me think it do me good, y-wis.

For on that Lorde that loved us alle
So hertely have I set my thought,
It is my joye on Him to calle.
For love me hath in bales brought,
Me think it do me good, y-wis.