That right cannot govern Fancy

I HAVE sought long with steadfastness

To have had some ease of my great smart:

But nought availeth faithfulness

To grave within your stony heart.

But hap, and hit, or else hit not,

As uncertain as is the wind;

Right so it fareth by the shot

Of Love, alas! that is so blind.

Therefore I play’d the fool in vain,

With pity when I first began

Your cruel heart for to constrain,

Since love regardeth no doubtful man.

But of your goodness, all your mind

Is that I should complain in vain;

This is the favour that I find;

Ye list to hear how I can plain!

But tho’ I plain to please your heart,

Trust me I trust to temper it so,

Not for to care which do revert;

All shall be one, or wealth, or woe.

For fancy ruleth, though Right say nay,

Even as the good man kist his cow;

None other reason can ye lay,

But as who sayeth; ‘I reck not how.’