A LAWDE AND PRAYSE MADE FOR OUR SOUEREIGNE LORD THE KYNG.[4]

Candida, punica, &c. The Rose both White and Rede In one Rose now dothe grow; Thus thorow every stede[5] Thereof the fame dothe blow: Grace the sede did sow: England, now gaddir flowris, Exclude now all dolowrs. Nobilis Henricus, &c. Noble Henry the eight, Thy loving souereine lorde, Of kingis line moost streight, His titille dothe recorde: In whome dothe wele acorde Alexis yonge of age, Adrastus wise and sage. Sedibus ætheriis, &c. Astrea, Justice hight, That from the starry sky Shall now com and do right, This hunderd yere scantly A man kowd not aspy That Right dwelt vs among, And that was the more wrong: Arcebit vulpes, &c. Right shall the foxis chare,[6] The wolvis, the beris also, That wrowght have moche care, And browght Englond in wo: They shall wirry no mo,[7] Nor wrote[8] the Rosary[9] By extort trechery: Ne tanti regis, &c. Of this our noble king The law they shall not breke; They shall com to rekening; No man for them wil speke: The pepil durst not creke Theire grevis to complaine, They browght them in soche paine: Ecce Platonis secla, &c. Therfor no more they shall The commouns ouerbace, That wont wer ouer all Both lorde and knight to face;[10] For now the yeris of grace And welthe ar com agayne, That maketh England faine.[11] Rediit jam pulcher Adonis, &c. Adonis of freshe colour, Of yowthe the godely flour, Our prince of high honour, Our paves,[12] our succour, Our king, our emperour, Our Priamus of Troy, Our welth, our worldly joy; Anglorum radians, &c. Vpon vs he doth reigne, That makith our hartis glad, As king moost soueraine That ever Englond had; Demure, sober, and sad,[13] And Martis lusty knight; God save him in his right! Amen. Bien men souient.[14] Per me laurigerum Britonum Skeltonida vatem.