Another tyme they flutter with theyr wynges
And nowe the houndes barkynge strykes the skye
Nowe sounde theyr fete, and nowe the chaynes rynges
They clap with theyr handes, by suche maner thynges
They make of the churche, for theyr hawkes a mewe
And Canell to theyr dogges, whiche they shall after rewe
So with suche folys is neyther peas nor rest
Unto the holy churche they haue no reuerence
But wander about to see who get may best
In rybawde wordes pryde and insolence