Let sorrow lend vs her sad pen t’indite
In lines of woe, what I to light shall bring,
And teach our muse so ruthfully to sing,
That the sad reader’s ruthfull eyes may drop,
Teares at each point, to teach him where to stop.
43.
Within the Tower, of which my brother spake,
Lockt vp from sight of all our friends we were,
Where while we do expect, when I shall take
The crowne on me, t’whom whilome euery peere,