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Then mounte Then mounte brave gallants all
And don your helmes amaine:
Deathes couriers fame and honor call
Us to the field again
No shrewish tears shall fill our eye
When the sword hilts in our hand
Heart whole well part and no white sighe
For the fairest of the land
Let piping swaine
And craven wight
Thus wheepe and puling crye
Our business is life men to fight
And hero life to die