The beginning of HF:

God turne us every drem to goode!
For hyt is wonder, be the roode,
To my wyt, what causes swevenes
Eyther on morwes or on evenes;
And why th'effect folweth of somme,
And of somme hit shal never come;
Why that ia an avisioun
And this a revelacioun,
Why this a drem, why that a sweven,
And noght to every man lyche even;
Why this a fantome, why these oracles,
I not; but whoso of these miracles
The causes knoweth bet than I,
Devyne he; for I certeinly
Ne kan hem noght, ne never thinke
To besily my wyt to swynke ...
(HF, Vv.1-17)

The conclusion of HF:

Ther men of love-tydynges tolde,
And I gan thiderward beholde;
For I saugh rennynge every wight,
As faste as that they hadden myght;
And everych cried, "What thing is that?"
And somme sayde, "I not never what."
And whan they were alle on hepe,
Tho behynde begunne up lepe,
And clamben up on other faste,
And up the nose and yen kaste,
And troden fast on others heles,
And stampen, as man doon aftir eles.
Atte laste y saugh a man,
Which that y nevene net ne kan;
But he semed for to be
A man of gret auctorite . . .
(HF, Vv. 2143-2158)

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