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Against Women Unconstant 
Geoffrey Chaucer
composed c1370 (30)

Madame, for youre newefangelnesse, 
Many a servant have ye put out of grace. 
I take my leve of your unstedefastnesse, 
For wel I woot, whil ye hav lives space, 
Ye can not love ful half yeer in a place, 
To newe thing youre lust is ay so keene; 
In stede of blew, thus may ye were al greene. 
Right as a mirour nothing may enpresse, 
But, lightly as it cometh, so mote it pace, 
So fareth youre love, youre werkes bereth witnesse. 
Ther is no faith that may your herte enbrace; 
But, as a wedercok, that turneth his face 
With every wind, ye fare, and this is seene; 
In stede of blew, thus may ye were al greene. 

Ye might be shrinèd, for youre brothelnesse, 
Bet that Dalida, Criseide or Candace; 
For ever in chaunging stant youre sikernesse; 
That tache may no wight fro yuor herte arace. 
If ye lese oon, ye can wel twain purchace; 
Al light for somer, ye woot wel what I mene, 
In stede of blew, thus may ye were al greene