Thay seuyd owte freshly, thay kepud none araye; Glad with the Kentyschmen thay were for to fraye. Thay were kyllid down, away thay myste not goo. Thus the wille of God is evermore doo.

God wolde the erle Revers there shulde be;

He purchesid grett love of the comyns that seasoun; Lovyngly the cetysens and hee

Pursuyd thayre enmyes, it was but reason,

And kyllid the peple for thayre false tresoun, Or the chase were do, cc. and moo.

Thus in every thynge, Lorde, thy will be do.

When the Kentyschmen herd of that fraye,
Like maysterles men away thay wente,
Erly in the mornyng, or it were day,

Throw halkys and hegges resortid into Kent.
Thay vanysshyd away as thayre tayles had be brente,
Remembrynge thayre false tresoun, in hertes woo.
Thus in every thynge, Lorde, thy will be doo.

O glorius God, what vexacioun was then

To the quene and the lordis and other lades eke, To the mayre, and the comens, and the aldurmen ; Thay nedid no fere ne sorow to seke.

Then aftur kynge Edwarde thay cryed and did wepe ; The lacke of his presence made the pepull woo. Thus the wille of God in every thynge is doo.

O that nobill prynce and emperour flouere,
To sitt at Londone resorte he than;
Nothur Alisaunder ne Artur, ne no conquerouere
No better were acompenyd with nobill men.
Like none of the rounde tabulle were beseyn,
Ryally horsid and aparelde in the fere of thayre foo.
Thus victoriusly he come, Goddes wille was soo.

The duke of Glocetter, that nobill prynce,

Yonge of age and victorius in batayle, To the honoure of Ectour that he myzte comens, Grace hym folowith, fortune, and good spede. I suppose hes the same that clerkis of rede, Fortune hathe hym chosyn, and forthe wyth hym will goo,

Her husbonde to be, the wille of God is soo.

In the kynges forwarde the prynce did ride,
Withe nobill lordis of grett renowne;

The erle of Penbroke, the lorde chamberlayne be his side;

Many other knyztes and yomen of the crowne; With tru[m]ppus and clarions thay rode to Londone. In the kynges forwarde were viij. m1 and moo. Thus in every thynge the wille of God is doo.

The lorde chambirlayne, that gentill knyzte,
Whiche failid his mayster nother in storme ne stoure;
Off goodly men he had a faire syzte,

Wiche rode afore the kynge to his honoure.

He hathe deservid thancke amonge other paramour, In Dochelonde, in Englonde, in wele and in woo; He hath beddyn with his kynge, the wille of God is soo.

Then the glorius prynce, victorius and ryalle,
Kynge Edwarde the iiijthe, I wille ye undurstonde,
Viij. aldermen of Londone, I wille ye undyrstonde,
In the felde he dubbid thaym knyztes, and bade
them up stonde,

Fulle nobille and worshypfully with his honde. Wyth reverence and worshyp thay thanckyd hym also; He remembirde thayre trew hertes, God wolde soo.

The duke of Claranse, that honorabill knyzte,
Can alowe the cité notabully.

Hym to beholde it was a goodly syzte,

He is an excellent prynce certaynly.

He thonckyd the cetisence of thayre fidelité Done to the kynge, it plesid hym soo.

Thus in every thynge the wille of God is doo.

Then to the gate the kynge did ride,

His brethir and his lordis in ordre, a good sizte to see.

iiij. m1 harnessid men the kynge did abide,

And worshypfully resayvid hym into the cité.
Cryste preserve the pepull, for his grett peté!
xx. m', I suppose, and many one moo,
Welcomyd kyng Edward, the will of God was soo.

Throw the cité to Poulus thai did ride;

He was resayvid with prosessioun solemply; His brether and his lordis knelyng hym beside, Thayre offeryng thay made devoutly,

Lovyng and thonekyng God of his victory. His brether and his lordis said the same also. Thus in every thynge, Lorde, thy wille be doo.

O quene Elizabeth, o blessid creature,

O glorius God, what payne had sche?
What langowr and angwiche did sche endure?
When hir lorde and sovereyn was in adversité.
To here of hir wepyng it was grett peté,
When sche remembirde the kynge, sche was woo.
Thus in every thynge the wille of God is doo.

Here aftir, good lady, in youre felicité,

Remembir olde trowblis and thynges paste, And thyncke that Cryste hym selfe is hee That is kynge of kynges, and ever shall laste. Knytt it in youre herte suerly and faste, And thyncke he hathe delyveryd you owte of woo; Hertly thoncke hym, hit plesith hym so to doo.

And ever, good lady, for the love of Jhesu,
And his blessid modir in any wise,
Remembir suche personus as have be trewe,
Helpe every man to have justice.

And thes that wille othir maner maters device,
Thay love not the kynge, I dar say soo,
Besechyng ever God that his wille be doo.

Explicit the balet off the kynge.

ON ENGLAND'S COMMERCIAL POLICY.1

Anglia, propter tuas naves et lanas, omnia regna te salutare deberent.

Goo forth, lybell, and mekly schew thy face
Afore my lordes, with humble countenaunss,
And pray theym all to take the to grace,

In appoysaylle and in cheryschyng the to avaunce.

Ffor thow mayst expertly be provyd by prudence,
Among alle discrete men havyng sapyence,
Ffor oone of the best that may be thought
Ffor the welth of Ynglond, yf it be well sowthe.

Ffor ther ys no reme in no maner degree,
Butt they have nede to oure Englysshe commodyté ;
And the cawse theroff I wylle to yow expresse,
The wiche ys soth as the gospelle of the masse.

This poem was written to enforce the same principles as those contained in the larger tract of an earlier date, the Libel of English Policy, of which it is partly a sort

of abstract adapted to the time.

It is taken from a manuscript in the British Museum, MS. Lansdowne, No. 796, fol. 2, vo, of about the reign of Edward IV., at which period it appears to have been composed

Ther ys noothir pope, emperowre, nor kyng,
Bysschop, cardynal, or any man levyng,
Of what condicion or what maner degree,
Duryng theyre levyng thei must have thynges iij.

Mete, drynk, and cloth, to every mannes sustynaunce,
They leng alle iij., withowtt varyaunce.

Ffor who so lackyth any of thyse iij. thynges,
Be the popys or emperowrs, or soo royall kynges,

Yt may not stonde with theym in any prosperyté; Ffor who so lackythe any of thyse, he suffryd adversyté;

Wilys this ys soth be yowre wyttes dyscerne,

Of alle the remes in the worlde this beryth the lanterne.

Ffor of everyche of thyse iij. by Goddes ordynaunce,
Wee have suffycyenly unto oure sustynaunce,
And with the supplusage of oone of thyse iij. thynges,
We myzgth rewle and governe alle crystyn kynges.

And paynymys also we myzthe mak theym ful tame, Ffor the cause we take no hed we be mykylle to blame;

For of alle the pepylle that be lyvyng on grounde
To praye and to please God we be most bownde.

Ffor thow thei have met, drynke, in every kyngges londe,

Yet they lacke clothe, as y undyrstonde;

And for to determyn that the trouthe ys soe,
Lestyn wel to me, and ye moste acord therto.

Ffor the marchauntes comme oure wollys for to bye,
Or elles the cloth that is made theroff sykyrly,
Oute of dyverse londes fer byyond the see,
To have thyse merchaundyss into theyr contré.