If ye have reed de hyperdulia, Than ye know what betokeneth dulia: Than shall ye fynde it fyrme and stable, And to our faithe moche agreable, To wors… - John Skelton

When I remember again How my Philip was slain, Never half the pain Was between you twain, Pyramus and Thisbe, As then befell to me. I wept and I wailed, The tearės down hailed, But nothing it availed To call Philip again Whom Gib, our cat, hath slain.

She is the violet,
The daisy delectable,
The columbine commendable,
The jelofer amiable;
For this most goodly flower,
This blossom of fresh colour,
So Jupiter me succour,
She flourisheth new and new
In beauty and virtue.

Twyt, Scot, go kepe thy den.
Mell nat with Englyshe men.
Thou dyd nothyng but barke
At the castell of Warke.