Her jewells shee solde, and hither came wee—
All our comfort and care was our prettye Bessee.
And here have wee lived in fortunes despite,
Thoughe poore, yet contented with humble delighte;
Full forty winters thus have I beene
A silly blind beggar of Bednall-greene.
And here, noble lordes, is ended the song
Of one that once to your owne ranke did belong:
And thus have you learned a secrette from mee,
That ne'er had beene knowne but for prettye Bessee.