As Mirrours vnto men, to bring to light
My deeds, oft done in my deare countrie’s right:
Heare then (thou sleeping wight) whose mournefull muse
To sing my storie Memorie doth chuse.
4.
I am the sonne of that vnhappie king
Hight Egelred, whose daies were wrapt in woe,
And on whose head false fortune downe did fling,
Such miserable scath and ouerthrow,
That he was forc’d his kingdome to forgo: