Which to my friends I freely gaue away.
46.
After this curse it seem’d my blisse begun:
For when the stubborne Irish did rebell,
Meth witnesse be of my atchieuements done:
And let cold Snowden’s barren mountaines tell,
How the rebellious Welch my hand did quell:
No wofull fate befell me at this season,
Till my false peeres began to practise treason.
47.