"Somewhat musing And more mourning, In remembering Th’unsteadfastness; This world being Of such wheeling, Me contrarying, What may I guess?I fear, doubtless, Remediless Is now to seize My woeful chance; For unkindness, Withoutenless, And no redress, Me doth advance.With displeasure, To my grievance, And no surance Of remedy; Lo, in this trance, Now in substance, Such is my dance, Willing to die.Methinks truly Bounden am I, And that greatly, To be content; Seeing plainly Fortune doth wry All contrary From mine intent.My life was lent Me to one intent. It is nigh spent. Welcome Fortune! But I ne went Thus to be shent But she it meant: Such is her won."