ALL you that cry O hone, [bad word] now & sing O hone with me
For why our Jewel is from us gone,
the valiant Knight of Chivalry:
Of rich and poor belov'd was he,
in time an honourable Knight;
When by our Laws condemn'd to dye,
he lately took his last good night.

Count him not like to Champion,
those Traytorous men of Babington,
Nor like the Earl of Westmerland,
by whom a number were undone:
He never yet hurt Mothers Son,
 his quarrel still maintains the right,
Which makes the tears my face [bad word]  when I think on his last good night.

The Portugals can witness be,
 his Dagger at Lisborn Gate he flung,
And like a Knight of Chivalry,
his Chain upon the gate he hung;
I would to God that he [bad word] to fetch them back in order right
Which thing was by his honour done,
yet lately took his last good night.

The Frenchmen they can testifie,
the town of Gourney he took in,
And marcht to Rome immediately,
 not caring for his foes a pin,
With Bullets then he pierc'd their skin
 and made them flye from his sight:
He there that time did credit win,
and now hath tane his last good night.

And stately Cales can witness be,
even by his Proclamation right,
He [bad word] them all straightly,
to have a care of Infants lives:
And that none should hurt man or wife,
 which was against their right,
Therefore they pray'd for his long life,
  which lately took his last good night.

Would God he ne'r had Ireland known,
 nor set one foot on Flanders ground
Then might we well injoy'd our own,
where now our Jewel will not be found
Which makes our foes still abound,
 trickling with salt tears in our sight,
To hear his name in our ears to sound,
 Lord [bad word] took his last good night.

Ashwednesday that dismal day,
when he came forth of his chamber door,
Upon a Scaffold there he saw,
 his heads-man standing him before:
His Nobles all they did deplore,
 sheding salt tears in his sight,
He said farewel to rich and poor,
at his good morrow and goodnight:

My Lords said he you stand but by,
to see performance of the Law,
It is I that have deserv'd to dye.
 and yield my self unto the blow,
I have deserv'd to dye I know,
  but ne'r against my Countries right,
Nor to my Queen was ever foe,
 upon my death at my good night.

Farewel Elizabeth my Queen,
 God bless thee with thy council all,
Farewel my Knights of Chivalry,
 farewel my Souldiers stout and tall.
Farewel [bad word] great and small,
  into the hands of men I light,
My life shall make amends for all,
 for Es bids the world good night.

Farewel dear wife and children three,
farewel my kind and tender [bad word] your selves mourn not for me,
although your fall be now begun,
My time [bad word] my glass [bad word] [bad word] your self in former light,
Seeing by my fall you are undone,
your father bids the world good night.

Derick thou know'st at Cales I sav'd
thy life lost for a Rape there done,
As thou thy self can'st testifie,
thine own hand three and twenty hung,
But now thou seest my self [bad word] by chance into thy hands I light,
Strike out thy blow that I may know,
thou Es lov'd at his good night.

When England counted me a Papist,
the work of Papists I defie,
I ne'r worshipt saint nor Angel in heaven
nor the Virgin Mary I.
But to Christ which for my sins did dye,
trickling with Salt tears in his sight
Spreading my arms to God on high,
Lord Jesus receive my soul this night.