For he was a prety cocke,
And came of a gentyll stocke,
And wrapt in a maidenes smocke, 590
And cherysshed full dayntely,
Tyll[393] cruell fate made him to dy:
Alas, for dolefull desteny![394]
But whereto shuld I
Lenger morne or crye?
To Jupyter I call,
Of heuen emperyall,