Offending God, hee tooke this prince away.
46.
Helasse, how loath can I retourne, and leaue this pearle in Roane,
My lorde Ihon duke of Bedford, there his corps yet lyes,
Enclosde with costly tombe, wrought curiously of stone,
By north the altar high (delighting many martiall eyes)
Within our ladie church, where fame him lifts to skies,
By dayly vew his name renoumbde exalted is,
And soule, I trust, full sweetly sweames in blisse.
47.