We dayly se the fallys innumerable
And greuous deth aswell of youth as age
Thus is this wretchyd worlde moche vnstable
Wherfore me thynke it is a great outrage
To trust therto, or for an vnsure stage
Or hye place of welth or worldly honour
The presence to despyse of our sauyoure
But without doute the tyme shall come and houre
Whan all mankynde shall se hym euydent
Some to theyr ioy, some to wo and doloure