Anon he was cast out to woe and pain.
O gluttony! well ought us on thee plain.
Oh! wist a man how many maladies
Follow of excess and of gluttonies,
He woulde be the more measurable
Of his diete, sitting at his table.
Alas! the shorte throat, the tender mouth,
Maketh that east and west, and north and south,
In earth, in air, in water, men do swink
To get a glutton dainty meat and drink.
Of this mattere, O Paul! well canst thou treat
Meat unto womb, and womb eke unto meat,
Shall God destroye both, as Paulus saith.
Alas! a foul thing is it, by my faith,
To say this word, and fouler is the deed,
When man so drinketh of the white and red,
That of his throat he maketh his privy
Through thilke cursed superfluity
The apostle saith, weeping full piteously,
There walk many, of which you told have I, --
I say it now weeping with piteous voice, --
That they be enemies of Christe's crois;
Of which the end is death; womb is their God.
O womb, O belly, stinking is thy cod,
Full fill'd of dung and of corruptioun;
At either end of thee foul is the soun.
How great labour and cost is thee to find!

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