Of all which speake our English tongue, but those of thy deuice.
W. R.
To the learned Shepheard.
Collyn I see by thy new taken taske,
some sacred fury bath enricht thy braynes,
That leades thy muse in haughtie verse to maske,
and loath the layes that longs to lowly swaynes.
That lifts thy notes from Shepheardes vnto kings,
So like the liuely Larke that mounting sings.