.NDU.MjI1Njk
An Answere to ri Tichborne who was executed in wth Babingtõ[n]
Thy flower of youth is with a north wind blessed thy feast of Joye, is an Idea found Thy corne is shed, thy untimely harvest wasted thy good in ill, thy hope in hurt as wasted Darke was thy day & shadow was thy sun And by such lights thy life untymely spun
Thy tale was nought thy oratory told thy fruite is rotten & thy leaves are gone Thy selfe wert young in yeares in tyme growne the world accoumpts thee not worth thinking on old Thy thred's not cutt nor spun, but broken Soe let thy heart, though yet it be [butone?]
Thou soughts thy death and foundst it in desert thou lookest for life,yet [lesedly foet?] it fade Thou trodst on Earth, & now in Earth thou art and men may wish that yu hadst nere [time?] horne Thy glorye and thy glase are tymelels ruine [wch lo?] unhappye man : by thy selfe was dorne Finis