Clad, all, in linnen, white as lillies.
The Harvest swaines, and wenches bound
For joy, to see the Hock-cart crown'd.
About the cart, heare, how the rout
Of rurall younglings raise the shout;
Pressing before, some coming after,
These with a shout, and these with laughter.
Some blesse the cart; some kisse the sheaves;
Some prank them up with oaken leaves:
Some crosse the fill-horse; some with great