This is a marveilous myserye:
And trewe thei saye, it is no lye;
For grasyers and regraters,
Withe to[294] many shepemasters,
That of erable grounde make pastures,
Are thei that be these wasters
That wyll vndoo your[295] lande,
Yf thei contynewe and stande,
As ye shall vnderstand
By this lytle boke: