A Ballad Sent To King Richard
Sometime this world was so steadfast and stable,
That man's word was held obligation;
And now it is so false and deceivable,
That word and work, as in conclusion,
Be nothing one; for turned up so down
Is all this world, through meed and wilfulness,
That all is lost for lack of steadfastness.
What makes this world to be so variable,
But lust that folk have in dissension?
For now-a-days a man is held unable