To totter tide in truthes defence;
With sighes and sobs, I said O God,
Let right not haue this recompense.
Least that my foes might laugh to see.
That thou wouldst not deliver me. Bis.
My soule then to repentance ranne,
My ragged clothes all rent and torne;
and did bewaile the losse it wanne,
With loathsome life, so long forlorne,
and saide O God yet thou art he