Oh,
Fortune! how thy restlesse wavering
Hath fraught with cares my troubled witt!
Witnes this present prisonn, whither
Could beare me, and the joys I quitt.
Thou causedest the guiltie to be
From bandes, wherein are innocents inclosed:
Causing the guiltles to be straite reserved,
And freeing those that death had well deserved.
But by her envie can be nothing wroughte,
So God send to my foes all they have thoughte.signed - A.
D.
LV.
Elizabethe,
Prisonner.while prisoner at Woodstock [Writ with charcoal on a shutter]
