What worlds delight, or ioy of liuing speach
Can hart, so plungd in sea of sorrowes deep,
And heaped with so huge misfortunes, reach?
The carefull cold beginneth for to creep,
And in my heart his yron arrow steep,
Soone as I thinke vpon my bitter bale:
Such helplesse harms yts better hidden keep,
Then rip vp griefe, where it may not auaile,
My last left comfort is, my woes to weepe and waile.

Ah Lady deare, quoth then the gentle knight,
Well may I ween, your grief is wondrous great;
For wondrous great griefe groneth in my spright,
Whiles thus I heare you of your sorrowes treat.
But woefull Lady, let me you intrete,
For to vnfold the anguish of your hart:
Mishaps are maistred by aduice discrete,
And counsell mitigates the greatest smart;
Found neuer help, who neuer would his hurts impart.

O but (quoth she) great griefe will not be tould,
And can more easily be thought, then said.
Right so (quoth he) but he, that neuer would,
Could neuer: will to might giues greatest aid.
But griefe (quoth she) does greater grow displaid,
If then it find not helpe, and breeds despaire.
Despaire breeds not (quoth he) where faith is staid.
No faith so fast (quoth she) but flesh does paire.
Flesh may empaire (quoth he) but reason can repaire.

[Ed. A.C.Hamilton, Revised Second Edition, Pearson/Longman: 2001, p.100]