Count not to make a cope[1307] for dearth of hay: 5
When we have turnd our butter to the salt,
And set our cheese safely[1308] upon the rackes,
Then let our fathers prise[1309] it as they please.
We countrie sluts of merry Fresingfield
Come to buy needlesse noughts to make us fine, 10
And looke that yong men should be francke[1310] this day,
And court us with such fairings as they can.
Phœbus is blythe, and frolicke lookes from heaven,
As when he courted lovely Semele,[1311]