That Phyllyp may fly

Aboue the starry sky,

To treade the prety wren, 600

That is our Ladyes hen:

Amen, amen, amen!

Yet one thynge is behynde,

That now commeth to mynde;[395]

An epytaphe I wold haue

For Phyllyppes graue:

But for I am a mayde,