And the supplye,
Suffer nat our lorde to dye,
But to lyue;
For eternally that he shal lyue
Is oure byleue.
M. xx.
Kynges, prynces, remembre, whyle ye may,
Do for yoursilfe, for that shal ye fynde
Executours often maketh delay,
The bodye buryed, the soule sone oute of mynde;