Were made for myse and rattes,
And not for birdes smale.
Alas! my face waxeth pale
Telling this piteous tale.
Alas! I say agayne,
Deth hath departed us twayne;
The false cat hath thee slayne.
Farewell, Phyllyp, adieu,
Our Lord thy soule reskew;
Farewell, without restore,