With many more; yet though our tongues did jar,
Our quarrel ended in a lippy war.
We kissed to friendship, like the nurse and child,'
And there she stopped, whereat the heavens smiled.
Then came a servingman, a blunt old knave,
170That dared Parnassus with a saucy brave.
'In youth,' says he, 'I rhymed and framèd notes
To Pan's choice music and the shepherds' throats:
And many a lusty bowl of cream have got
For Kate's three brace of rhymes, which was, God wot,