Book

 1    II|    overthrows,~Our spear that hurts, our sword that wounds our
 2    VI|      her lord with wounds and hurts tormented,~How he complained,
 3  VIII|     wounds began to smart, my hurts to ache;~For every sore
 4  VIII| conquest bold,~Where each his hurts I think to other shows,~
 5   XII|   walls to mend,~Lastly their hurts the wounded knights attend.~ ~
 6   XIX|    thin, those deep~And cruel hurts to fasten, roll and blind,~
 7    XX|       breasts deep wounds and hurts to bear,~But fled away,
 8    XX|  flies from eye or hand I see~Hurts him, such rigor doth his
 9    XX|   strife,~Their wounds, their hurts, forgot both death and life.~ ~
10    XX|      all help is waste,~Since hurts ease hurts, wounds must
11    XX|       waste,~Since hurts ease hurts, wounds must cure wounds