Myght tere out all thy trypes!
Of Arcady the beares
Might plucke awaye thyne eares! 310
The wylde wolfe Lycaon
Byte asondre thy backe bone!
Of Ethna the brennynge hyll,
That day and night brenneth styl,
Set in thy tayle a blase,
That all the world may gase
And wonder vpon thé,