Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken, br Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken; br Like as a lyttel deere you ben y-hiding br Whenas come lovers with theyre pityse chiding. br Sothly it ben faire to give up your moder br For to beare swete company with some oder; br Your moder ben well enow so farre shee goeth, br But that ben not farre enow, God knoweth; br Wherefore it ben sayed that foolysh ladyes br That marrye not shall leade an aype in Hadys; br But all that do with gode men wed full quicklye br When that they be on dead go to ye seints full sickerly.