When heavens bright shine is shadow'd with a fogge?
Alate[1264] we ran the deere, and through the lawndes
Stript[1265] with our nagges the loftie frolicke bucks
That scudded fore the teisers[1266] like the wind: 5
Nere was the deere of merry Fresingfield
So lustily puld down by jolly mates,
Nor sharde the farmers such fat venison,
So franckly dealt, this hundred yeares before;
Nor have[1267] I seene my lord more frolicke in the chace; 10
And now[1268]—changde to a melancholie dumpe?