Lechery, losenchery,[47] and losels' tales,
Gluttony and great oaths, this mirth they loveth,
And if they carpen[48] of Christ, these clerkes and these lewed,
And they meet in their mirth, when minstrels be still,
When telleth they of the Trinity a tale or twain,
And bringeth forth a blade reason, and take Bernard to witness,
And put forth a presumption to prove the sooth,
Thus they drivel at their dais[49] the Deity to scorn,
And gnawen God to their gorge[50] when their guts fallen;
And the careful[51] may cry, and carpen at the gate,
Both a-hunger'd and a-thirst, and for chill[52] quake,
Is none to nymen[53] them near, his noyel[54] to amend,
But hunten him as a hound, and hoten[55] him go hence.
Little loveth he that Lord that lent him all that bliss,
That thus parteth with the poor; a parcel when him needeth
Ne were mercy in mean men, more than in rich;
Mendynauntes meatless[56] might go to bed.
God is much in the gorge of these greate masters,
And amonges mean men, his mercy and his workes,
And so sayeth the Psalter, I have seen it oft.
Clerks and other kinnes men carpen of God fast,
And have him much in the mouth, and meane men in heart;
Friars and faitours[57] have founden such questions
To please with the proud men, sith the pestilence time,
And preachen at St Paule's, for pure envy of clerks,
That folk is not firmed in the faith, nor free of their goods,
Nor sorry for their sinnes, so is pride waxen,
In religion, and in all the realm, amongst rich and poor;
That prayers have no power the pestilence to let,
And yet the wretches of this world are none 'ware by other,