"Earth from earth has got dignity of naught."
When the last stanza was reached, six hundred voices trolled it defiantly forth:—
"Earth upon earth would be a king;
But how that earth shall be earth's thinks he no thing:
Earth upon earth wins castles and towers,
Then says earth unto earth 'this is all ours.'"
Then a thin boyish treble started a mocking song on the great state of the priests. They did not suffer him to sing alone, but took it up eagerly with him:—
"Priestes high on horse willeth ride
In glitterande gold of great array,
Ipainted and portred all in pride