Shall come vnto the glory endeles
But in the fynysshynge of my mater
To god the maker of all thynge
Deuoutely now I make my prayer
To saufe kynge Henry our ryghtfull kynge
From all treason and dolefull mornynge
And for to maynteyn the grete honour
Of this swete rede rose so fayre a colour
This floure was kepte ryght longe in close
Amonge the leuys holsom and sote