And fruitless all their grafted guiles, as shortly ye shall see.
Then dazzled eyes, with pride which great ambition blindes,
Shall be unveil'd by worthy wights, whose foresight falshood finds.
The daughter of debate, that eke discord doth sowe,
Shall reape no gaine, where former rule hath taught still peace to growe.
No forreine banish'd wight shall ancre in this port;
Our realme it brooks no stranger's force, let them elsewhere resort.
Our rusty sword with rust shall first his edge employ,
To polle their toppes that seeke such change, and gape for joy.