At his midpoint of being; forthwith tumble
With a great cry for Death to stoop and end him.
Now Watkin hears the voice and weeps for bliss,
The voice that warned "Creature, the time is come."
Merciful Death, was it Death, all his desire?
Promised of Heaven, and speedy? O Death, come!
Only for one thought must he make provision,
For honest Prinny, for old bob-tail Prinny.
Another master? Where? These hillside crofters
Were spiteful to their beasts and mercenary.