By Thomas Hoccleve
I see well, since I with sickness last
Was scourged, cloudy hath been the favour
That shone on me full bright in times past;
The sun abated, and the dark shower
Hilded down right on me, and in languor
Me made swim, so that my spirit
To live no lust had, ne no delight.
....
For though that my wit were home come again,
Men would it not so understand or take.
With me to deal hadden they disdain:
A riotous person I was and forsake.
Mine old friendship was all overshake...
