The kiss

My gostly fader, I me confesse,

First to God and then to you,

That at a window -- wot ye how? --

I stale a cosse of grete sweteness,

Which don was out avisèness;

But hit is doon, not undoon now.

My gostly fader, I me confesse

First to God and then to you.

But I restore it shall doutless

Agein, if so be that I mow;

And that to God I make a vow

And elles I axè foryefness.

My gostly fader, I me confesse

First to God and then to you.