Oon Ere It Herde, At Tother Out

This World Nys But A Thurghfare Ful Of Wo, And We Been Pilgrymes, Passynge To And Fro.

Death Is The End Of Every Worldly Pain.

That Field Hath Eyen, And The Wood Hath Ears.

And Then The Wren Gan Scippen And To Daunce.

For In Their Hearts Doth Nature Stir Them So Then People Long On Pilgrimage To Go And Palmers To Be Seeking Foreign Strands To Distant Shrines Renowned In Sundry Lands.