And with false England turnes vnto my foe.
106.
Pursu’d on euery hand, and forc’d to flie
My natiue soile to shun death’s dangerous dart,
My fortunes on the surging seas to trie
In a poore barke, from England we depart
To th’ile of Lunday with an heauie heart,
Whom from the maine land Seuerne doth diuide,
In which we hope in safetie to abide.
107.