I have a horse—a ryghte good horse—
⁠Ne doe I envie those
Who scoure ye plaine yn headie course,
⁠Tyll soddaine on theire 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 woot—
Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!
⁠Parte of ye fleecie brute.

I have a bytte—a ryghte good bytte—
⁠As schall 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.