Mercy I aske of my mysdoynge;
What auayleth it,[160] frendes, to be my foo, 10
Sith I can not resyst, nor amend your complaining?
Quia, ecce, nunc in pulvere dormio!
I slepe now in molde, as it is naturall
That[161] erth vnto erth hath his reuerture:
What ordeyned God to be terestryall,
Without recours to the erth[162] of nature?
Who to lyue euer may himselfe assure?[163]
What is it[164] to trust on mutabilyte,