Classic Poem

XXXII

There was never file half so well filed
To file a file for every smith's intent
As I was made a filing instrument
To frame other, while I was beguiled.
But reason hath at my folly smiled
And pardoned me since that I me repent
Of my lost years and time misspent:
For youth did me lead and falsehood guiled.
Yet this trust I have of full great appearance:
Since that deceit is ay returnable,
Of very force it is agreeable
That therewithal be done the recompense.
Then guile beguiled plained should be never
And the reward little trust forever.