What hart is then so hard but will for pity blede,
To heare so cruell lucke so cleare a life succede?
To see a seely soule with wo and sorrow sounst,[1150]
A king depriude, in prison pent, to death with daggers dounst.[1151]
5.
Would God the day of birth had brought me to my bere,
Then had I neuer felt the chaunge of fortune’s chere:
Would God the graue had gript me in her greedy woumbe,
Whan crown in cradle made me king with oyle of holy thoumbe.
6.