Iberia Won; A poem descriptive of the Peninsular War / With impressions from recent visits to the battle-grounds, and copious historical and illustrative notes

by T. M. Hughes

Would on the beste sounid jolly harpe

That evir was, with all his fingers five

Touch aie o string, or aie o warble harpe,

Were his nailes poincted nevir so sharpe,

It shoulde makin every wight to dull

To heare is glee, and of his strokes full.

This, like the other, becomes the perfect ottava rima by the addition of a single line, which I have likewise marked in italics:—

For though that the best harper upon live

Would on the beste sounid jolly harpe

That evir was, with all his fingers five