And owte therat sewde like manly men.
Thay bete hem down, no man mygte hem lett;
Freshely on thayre enmyes that day did thay fyghte.
Thayre false treson brougte theym in woo;
Thus in every thynge, Lorde, thy wille be doo.
The erle Revers, that gentill knygte,
Blessid be the tym that he borne was
By the power of God and his great mygte,
Throw his enmyes that day did he passe.
The maryners were kellid, thay cryed ‘Alas!’