O heavy herse!
The branch once dead, the bud eke needs must quail;
O careful verse!
"She, while she was, (that was, a woful word to sayn!)
For beauty's praise and pleasance had no peer;
So well she couth the shepheards entertain
With cakes and cracknels, and such country cheer:
Ne would she scorn the simple shepheard's swain;
For she would call him often heme,
And give him curds and clouted cream.