¶ Dame Pallas to the quene of Fame
¶ To your request we be well condiscended
Call forth, let se where is your clarionar
To blowe a blaste with his longe breth extended
Eolus your trumpet that knowen is so farre
That bararag bloweth in euery marciall warre
Let hym blowe nowe, that we may take a vewe
What poetes we haue at our retynewe.
¶ To se if Skelton wyll put hymselfe in prease
Amonge the thickest of all the hole route
Make noise ynoughe, for claterars loue no peace
Let se my syster, nowe spede you, go aboute
Anone I say this trumpet were founde out
And for no man hardely let hym spare
To blowe bararag, tyll both his eien stare.