That waketh and if but a leaf stur.
Whilome there wonned a wicked wolf,
That with many a lamb had gutted his gulf,
And ever at night wont to repair
Unto the flock, when the welkin shone fair,
Yclad in clothing of silly sheep,
When the good old man used to sleep;
Then at midnight he would bark and bawl,
(For he had eft learned a currës call,)
As if a wolf were among the sheep: