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"God woot," quod he, "nothyng therof feele I! |
285 | As help me Crist, as I in fewe yeres, |
| Have spent upon diverse manere freres |
| Ful many a pound; yet fare I never the bet. |
| Certeyn, my good have I almoost biset. |
| Farwel, my gold, for it is al ago!" |
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| "God knows," said he, "nothing thereof feel I; |
285 | So help me Christ as I, these last few years, |
| Have spent on divers friars, it appears, |
| Full many a pound; and I'm no better yet. |
| Truly my wealth have I almost upset. |
| Farewell my gold! for it has slipped away." |
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