From hence for many yeres she durst not once out loke.
The ruthful wight that sitteth ynder the barren tree,
Resembleth to us the fourme when Commonweales decay:
But when they be in state tryumphant, you may see
By him in freshe attyre that sitteth under the baye.
Now since that Time again his daughter Truth hath brought
We trust, O worthy Quene, thou wilt this Truth embrace:
And since thou understandst the good estate and nought,
We trust wealth thou wilt plant, and barrenness displace.
But for to heale the sore, and cure that is not seene,