Thou hast to lytell myght Agaynst Englande to fyght. - John Skelton

For the soul of Philip Sparrow,
That was late slain at Carrow
Among the Nunnes Black,
For that sweet soul’s sake
And for all sparrows’ souls
Set in our bead-rolls,
Pater noster qui
With an Ave Mari.

I saye, thou madde Marche hare,
I wondre howe ye dare
Open your janglyng jawes
To prech in any clawes,
Lyke pratynge poppyng dawes,
Agaynst her excellence,
Agaynst her reverence,
Agaynst her preemynence,
Agaynst her magnifycence,
That never dyde offence.

Englande the flowre
Of relucent honowre,
In olde commemoration
Most royall Englyssh nacion.