And teche them howe they sholde syt ydyll,
To pyke theyr fyngers all the day longe;
So in theyr eyre I synge them a songe,
And make them so longe to muse, 1240
That some of them renneth strayght to the stuse;
To thefte and bryboury I make some fall,
And pyke a locke and clyme a wall;
And where I spy a nysot gay,
That wyll syt ydyll all the day,
And can not set herselfe to warke,