Before he did get over the Moss,
There was he aware of Sir Hugh of the Grime.
Turn, O turn, thou false Traytor,
Turn and yield thy self unto me;
Thou hast stol'n the Lord Bishop's Mare,
And now thinkest away to flee.
No, soft Lord Screw, that may not be,
Here is a broad Sword by my side;
And if that thou canst Conquer me,
The Victory will soon be try'd.