O lorde that ruleste bothe lande {and} seae
even by thy hevenly povre
grawnte I may passe thes raginge sees
nowe in this happie howre
for as the deere that seethe the darte
his bane dothe drede full sore
so do I feare the windes the see
and eke the drenchinge showre
but if thow wilt my sorse to pine
amyddes the drenchinge waves
I yelde my sprite to the o lorde
that all the worlde saves
And to the fishe I give my fleshe
a worthi fode to be
wo worthe the time that chaunsethe thus
my contre for to flye
for lo even now my eres do here
how this same waves do rore
that shall forthe drive my drenched corse
unto the sowndinge shore
And there summe man shall see me lye
vpon the shinige sandes
and thus shall pray unto the lorde
with liftinge vp his handes
O lorde my frendes and childerne all
guyde withe thy holy hande
and grawnte the fly the raginge seas
and dye vpon the lande
for so even here I see won lye
while he this race didde runne
a mides the creil seas he cauhte
his bane alas to sone
It is alas a ruthefull thinge
to see this woofull wighte
make thow o lorde his sely sole
partaker of thy lighte
And I to shewe the farvente love
I bere to christian bludde
here will I take the corse vnknowne
and winde hit in a shrowde
and bring hit to the holy churche
the christiane rightes to have
and so withe in the halowed grownde
will put him in a grave
Vpon his grave shall stande a stone
as wittnes of his case
and shall forbidde all suche as sayle
to attempte that dredful place
Thus shall I die thus shall I lie
this is my destinie
but wo worthe me that shall giue cause
eche wyhte the seas to flye
Woworthe the manne that framed the shippe
whereby we cut the seas
and see the contres farre aparte
owre fances for to pleas
but woworthe me yet ons agayne
that thus shall lye unknowne
and shall not place my wretched corse
vnder summe Englishe stonne
O lorde whi doste thow take me nowe
amids the drowninge seas
and shorten thus my springinge yowthe
and eke my plesante deas
but nowe o lorde but nowe I saye
begyns my yuthely pryme
take me in age and let me liue
as yet a longer time
That I may wayle my wiked ways
and eke my wontone will
and lerne to hate all erthley yoies
of whiche I hadde my fyll
but wo is me I pray in vayne
even clene agaynst thy will
for in my sines and wikednes
o lorde thow wilte me kylle
Thi will be donne in lande and sea
to dye myselfe I bende
o dethe cumme now for god my lord
appoynted me this ende
o dethe how sharpe arte thow to suche
as bene in tender age
whiche by repentence thinkes at lenkthe
theire sinnes for to asswage
but dye I must vndowtedly
what nedes me further talke
and in the salt see fludde my corse
vnto the shore shall walke
I yelde my sprite into thy handes
that died vpon the roode
for thow haste bowghte me god of truthe
even withe thy precious blodde
I am beset withe sinne alas
I am the childe of ire
kepe thow o lorde my sili sole
from ever lastinge fire
In the in the I truste of lorde
this blodde thy blodde I crave
forget my sinnes and gravnte me sprite
the hevenly yoies to have
lo now I sinke low I drowne
and drinke the mortall floodd
o christe o christe take thow my srpite
that trowstethe in thy bloodd
finis. R. E.