A brooke breakes forth into the low-lying land,
Here lies a plaine, and there a wood doth stand,
Here pastures, meades, corne-fields, a vale do crowne,
A castle here shootes vp, and there a towne.
94.
Here one with angle ore a siluer streame
With banefull baite the nibling fish doth feed:
There in a plow’d-land with his painefull teame,
The plowman sweates, in hope for labor’s meed
To get the earth with childe of Ceres’ seed: