Here beginneth an overset of elden stavecraft writ in the 13th-yearfivescore yclept Worldes blis ne last no throwe, first writ in the Middle English tung, into nowen English.
¶ Worldly Bliss lasteth not a throwe;
It wanes and wends away anon.
The longer that I know
the less I find worth thereon;
for all it is mingled with care,
with sorrow and with evil fare,
and at last poor and bare it 'lets man
when it ginnet agon.
All of the bliss thus here and there
belouketh at end weeps and moans.
¶ All shall go that here man has,
and it shall wane to nought;
the man that here sows no good,
when others reap, he will be becaught.
Think man, forthy while thou hast might,
that thou thy guilts here aright,
and work good by day and night,
ere then thou be of liss ilakt.
Thou knowest not when Christ our dright
asketh what he hath betakth.
¶ All the bliss of this life
thou shalt, man, end in weeping —
of house and home and child and wife.
Silly man, take care thereof!
For thou shalt all believen here
the eykt whereof lord thou wert;
when thou liest, man, upon a bier
and sleepest a swith and dreary sleep
thou shalt not have with thee any farer
but your workings on a heap.
¶ Man, why set you love and heart
on worldly bliss that lasteth not?
Why tholest thou that thee so oft smart
for love that is so unsteadfast?
Thou likest honey of thorn iwis,
that sets thy love on worldly bliss
for full of bitterness, it is.
sorely thou might be aghast,
who forspends here wealth amiss,
wherethrough been into hell itakt.
¶ Think, man, whereof Christ thee wrought
and do 'way pride and filthy mind.
Think how dearly he bought thee
on the rod with his sweet blood;
himself he gave for thee in worth,
to buy the bliss if thou be wise.
Bethink thee, man, and up arise,
of sloth, and gin to work good
while time to worken is,
for else thou art witless and wood.
¶ All day thou might understand,
and thy glass before thee see,
what is to do and to wonden,
and what to holden and to flee;
for all day thou see'st with thine eyes
how this world wanes and how men die.
That wit well, that thou shalt dreyen
death, also another death.
It helpeth nought at all there to lie,
may no man be death again.
¶ No good will be there unforguld
nor any evil unbought;
when thou liest, man, under the mould
thou shalt have as thou hast wrought.
Bethink thou well forthy, I rede,
and cleanseth thyself of thy misdeeds,
that he may help at thy need,
he that so dearly has bought us,
and to heaven's bliss lead
that ever lasts and faileth not.