“Jerusalem, thou hast lost—the flower of all chivalry;—now King Edward lives no more:—Alas! that he yet should die!—He would have reared up full high—our banners, that are brought to the ground;—very long we may call and cry—before we have found such a king!”
Now is Edward of Caernarvon—entirely King of England,—God let him never be worse man—than his father, nor less of might—to hold his commons to right,—and to understand good counsel,—all England to direct and manage;—of good knights there need not fail him.
Though my tongue were made of steel,—and my heart produced out of brass,—I could never tell the goodness—that was with King Edward:—King, as thou art called conqueror,—in each battle thou haddest prize;—God bring thy soul to the honour—which ever was and ever is,—which lasts ever without end!—Pray we God and our Lady,—to that bliss Jesus us send! Amen.
The old cry against the oppression of the poor and honest by the rich, and the general corruption of the age, is repeated in the following piece. It probably describes the state of feeling amongst many in the earlier years of Edward’s reign.
SONG ON THE TIMES.
[MS. Reg. 12, C. XII. fol. 7, ro. of reign of Edw. II.]
Quant honme deit parleir, videat quæ verba loquatur;
Sen covent aver, ne stultior inveniatur.