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