text: Lucks, my fair falcon, and your fellows all,
     How well pleasant it were your liberty!
  Ye not forsake me that fair might ye befall.
  But they that sometime liked my company:
  Like lice away from dead bodies they crawl.
  Lo what a proof in light adversity!
  But ye my birds, I swear by all your bells,
  Ye be my friends, and so be but few else.