I Could Be Well Content To Entertain

In Thy Youth Wast As True A Lover, As Ever Sighed Upon A Midnight Pillow

Full Of Wise Saws And Modern Instances.

As I Love The Name Of Honour More Than I Fear Death.

While We Lie Tumbling In The Hay.

This Blessèd Plot, This Earth, This Realm, This England This Nurse, This Teeming Womb Of Royal Kings, . . . This Land Of Such Dear Souls, This Dear Dear Land.