a. For knights ever should be persevering

To seeke honour without feintise or slough,

Fro wele to better, in all maner thing;

In signe of which, with leaves aye lasting

They be rewarded after their degree,

Whose lusty green May may not appaired be,

But aye keping their beauty fresh and greene,

For there nis storme that may hem deface,

Haile nor snow, wind nor frosts kene;

Wherfore they have this propertie and grace,

And for the floure within a little space

Woll be lost, so simple of nature

They be, that they no greevance may endure.

b. The monþes vary, eueryche haþ his sygne

And harde hit ys all wedyrs for to know,

The tyme somewhyle ys gracious & benygne,

An vppon hilles and valeys þat ben low

The iiij. wyndes contrariosly do blow

In every storme man ys here abydyng,

Som to release, & som to overthrow,

How shuld man þan be stedfast of lyuyng?

The worldly answer, fortune transmutable,

Trust of lordshyp a feynt sekernes,

Euery seson varyeth, frendshyp ys unstable,

Now myrthe, now sorow, now hele, now sekenes,

Now ebbe of pouert, now flodys of ryches,

All stont in chaunge, now losse, now wynnyng,

Tempest in see & wyndes sturdynes

Makeþ men vnstable & ferefull of lyuyng.

Tytan somwhyle fresshly doþe appere,

Then commeþ a storme & doþ hys lyght deface,

The soile of somer with floures glad of chere