Moche sorow and shame the wrecchis thay wroughte,
Fayre placis they brend on the water side.
Thayre myschevus dedis avaylid ham noughte,
Schamfully thay wrougte, and so them betyd.
Thay wolde not leve ther malice, but therin abyde,
Thay cryed kynge Edward and Warwicke also.
Thus the wille of God in every thynge is doo.
At Londone brygge they made asawte, sham to see,
The utter gate on the brygge thay sett on fyre;
Into Londone shott arrows withowte pete.