As erst I sayde, my blisse was tournde to bale,
I had good cause to weepe and wring my hands,
And showe sad chere with countenaunce full pale,
For I was brought in sorrowe’s wofull bands:
A pirry came and set my ship on sands,
What should I hyde, or coulour care and noy?
King Edward dyde in whome was all my ioy.
51.
And when the earth receiued had his corse,
And that in tombe this worthy prince was layde,