In Chyviat the hillys so he;
The chyld may rue that ys unborn,
It was the mor pitté.
The dryvers thorowe the woodes went
For to reas the deare;
Bomen byckarte uppone the bent
With ther browd aras cleare.
Then the wyld thorowe the woodes went
On every syde shear;
Grea hondes thorowe the grevis glent