Death now triumphs, my mortall daies are done.
My houre is spent, my glasse is quite outrun.”
112.
This said, when I twice thirteene yeares had been
The stout defendant of my countrie’s right,
My soule did leaue th’abodes of mortall men,
My liuelesse limbes in secret hid from sight,
Interred were at Glastenburie hight:
Thus hast thou heard the truth of all my storie,
My life, my death, and my nere dying glorie.