Classic Poem

Hey, hey, hey, hey!
The bores hede is armed gay.

The bores hede in hond I bring,
With garlond gay in portoring;
I pray you all with me to singe,
With hay!

Lordes, knightes, and squiers,
Persons, prestes, and vicars —
The bores hede is the furst mess,
With hay!

The bores hede, as I you say,
He takes his leive and gothe his way
Soon after the tweilfeth day,
With hay!

Then comes in the secund cours with mikel pride:
The cranes and the heirons, the bitteres by ther side,
The pertriches and the plovers, the woodcokes and the snit,
With hay!

Larkes in hot schow, ladys for to pik,
Good drink therto, lucius and fin —
Bluet of almain, romnay and win,
With hay!

Gud bred, ale, and win, dare I well say,
The bores hede with musterd armed so gay.

Furmante to pottage, with venisun fin,
And the hombuls of the dove, and all that ever comes in.

Capons ibake, with the peses of the row,
Reisons of corrans, with oder spises mo.