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[1] Knyythod is lijf of man on erthe, and his daies ben as the daies of an hired man. [2] As an hert desireth schadowe, and as an hirede man abideth the ende of his werk; [3] so and Y hadde voide monethis, and Y noumbrede trauailous niytes to me. [4] If Y schal slepe, Y schal seie, Whanne schal Y rise? and eft Y schal abide the euentid, and Y schal be fillid with sorewis `til to derknessis. [5] Mi fleisch is clothid with rot, and filthis of dust; my skyn driede vp, and is drawun togidere. [6] My daies passiden swiftliere thanne a web is kit doun `of a webstere; and tho daies ben wastid with outen ony hope. [7] God, haue thou mynde, for my lijf is wynde, and myn iye schal not turne ayen, that it se goodis. [8] Nethir the siyt of man schal biholde me; but thin iyen ben in me, and Y schal not `be in deedli lijf. [9] As a cloude is wastid, and passith, so he that goith doun to helle, schal not stie; [10] nether schal turne ayen more in to his hows, and his place schal no more knowe hym. [11] Wherfor and Y schal not spare my mouth; Y schal speke in the tribulacioun of my spirit, Y schal talke togidere with the bitternesse of my soule. [12] Whether Y am the see, ethir a whal, for thou hast cumpassid me with prisoun? [13] If Y seie, My bed schal coumfort me, and Y schal be releeuyd, spekynge with me in my bed; [14] thou schalt make me aferd bi dremys, and thou schalt schake me with `orrour, ethir hidousnesse, `bi siytis. [15] Wherfor my soule `chees hangyng, and my boonys cheesiden deth. [16] `Y dispeiride, now Y schal no more lyue; Lord, spare thou me, for my daies ben nouyt. [17] What is a man, for thou `magnifiest hym? ether what settist thou thin herte toward hym? [18] Thou visitist hym eerly, and sudeynli thou preuest hym. [19] Hou long sparist thou not me, nether suffrist me, that Y swolowe my spotele? [20] Y haue synned; A! thou kepere of men, what schal Y do to thee? Whi hast thou set me contrarie to thee, and Y am maad greuouse to my silf? [21] Whi doist thou not awei my sinne, and whi takist thou not awei my wickidnesse? Lo! now Y schal slepe in dust, and if thou sekist me eerli, Y schal not abide.
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Author: John Wycliffe (1328 – 1384)
 
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