Ye Carpette Knyghte

I have a horse—a ryghte good horse—

   Ne doe Y envye those

Who scoure ye playne yn headye course

   Tyll soddayne on theyre nose

They lyghte wyth unexpected force

   Yt ys—a horse of clothes.

I have a saddel—“Say’st thou soe?

   Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?”

I sayde not that—I answere “Noe”—

   Yt lacketh such, I woote:

Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!

   Parte of ye fleecye brute.

I have a bytte—a ryghte good bytte—

   As shall bee seene yn tyme.

Ye jawe of horse yt wyll not fytte;

   Yts use ys more sublyme.

Fayre Syr, how deemest thou of yt?

   Yt ys—thys bytte of rhyme.

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