The Twenty-eighth Song

Inuention hence her Compasse steeres,
Towards Yorke the most renown'd of Shires,
Makes the three Ridings in their Stories,
Each seuerally to shew their glories.
Ouse for her most-lou'd Cities sake,
Doth her Dukes Title vndertake;
His Floods then Humber welcomes in,
And showes how first he did begin.

THe Muse from Blackstonedge, no whit dismaid at all,
With sight of the large Shire, on which shee was to fall,
(Whose Forrests, Hils, & Floods, then long for her ariue
From Lancashire, that lookt her Beauties to contriue)
Doth set her selfe to sing, of that aboue the rest
A Kingdome that doth seeme, a Prouince at the least,
To them that thinke themselues no simple Shires to be;
But that wherein the world her greatnesse most may see,
And that which doth this Shire before the rest preferre,
Is of so many Floods, and great, that rise from her,
Except some silly few out of her Verge that flow,
So neere to other Shires, that it is hard to know,
If that their Springs be hers, or others them diuide,
And those are onely found vpon her Setting side.
Else be it noted well, remarkeable to all,
That those from her that flow, in her together fall.
Nor can small praise beseeme so beaurious Brooks as these,
For from all other Nymphs these be the Nayades,
In Amphitrites Bower, that princely places hold,
To whom the Orkes of Sea dare not to be so bold,
As rudely once to touch, and wheresoere they come,
The Tritons with their Trumps proclaime them publique roome.

Now whiles the Muse prepares these Floods along to lead,
The wide West-riding first, desires that shee may plead
The right that her belongs, which of the Muse she winnes,
When with the course of Don, thus she her Tract begins.

Thou first of all my Floods, whose Banks doe bound my South,
And offrest vp thy Streame to mightie Humbers mouth,
Of Ewe, and climing Elme, that crown'd with many a spray,
From thy cleare Fountaine first through many a Mead dost play,
Till Rother, whence the name of Rotheram first begun,
At that her christened Towne doth loose her in my Don,
Which proud of her recourse, tow'rds Doncaster doth driue,
Her greatst and chiefest towne, the name that doth deriue
From Don's neere bordering Banks, when holding on her race,
Shee dancing in and out, indenteth […]' Chase,
Whose brauery […] adds, new honors to her Banke:
When Sherwood sends her in slow Iddie, that made ranke
With her profuse excesse, shee largely it bestowes
On Marshland, whose swolne wombe with such abundance flowes,
As that her batning brest, her Fatlings sooner feeds,
And with more lauish waste then oft the Grasier needs:
Whose soyle, as some report that be her Borderers note,
With th'water vnder earth vndoubtedly doth flote:
For when the waters rise, it risen doth remaine
High whilst the Floods are high, and when they fall againe,
It falleth: but at last, when as my linely Don,
Along by Marshlands side, her lusty course hath runne,
The little wandring Went, wonne by the lowd report
Of the magnifique State, and height of Humbers Court,
Drawes on to meet with Don, at her approch to Aire:
Now speake I of a Flood, who thinks there's none should dare
(Once) to compare with her, supposd by her discent,
The darling daughter borne of loftie Penigent,
Who from her fathers foot, by Skipton downe doth scud,
And leading thence to Leeds, that delicatest Flood,
Takes Caldor comming in by Wakefield, by whose force,
As from a lusty Flood, much strengthened in her course;
But Caldor as shee comes, and greater still doth wax,
And trauelling along by Heading Halifax,
Which Horton once was cald, but of a Virgins haire,
(A Martyr that was made, for Chastity, that there
was by her Louer slaine) being fastned to a tree:
The people that would needs it should a Relique be,
It Halifax since nam'd, which in the Northerne tongue,
Is Holy haire: but thence as Caldor comes along,
It chanc'd shee in her Course on Kirkbey cast her eye,
Where merry Robbin Hood, that honest Thiefe doth lye,
Beholding fitly too before how Wakefield stood,
Shee doth not onely thinke of lustie Robin Hood,
But of his merry man, the Pindar of the Towne
Of Wakefield, George a Greene, whose sames so farre are blowne,
For their so valiant fight, that euery free mans Song,
Can tell you of the same, quoth she be talk'd on long,
For yee were merry Lads, and those were merry dayes;
When Aire to Caldor calls, and bids her come her wayes,
Who likewise to her helpe, brings Hebden, a small Rill:
Thus Aire holds on her course tow'rds Humber, till she fill
Her fall with all the wealth that Don can her affoord.
Quoth the West-riding thus, with Riuers am I stor'd.

Next guide I on my Wharfe, the great'st in her degree,
And that I well may call the worthicst of the three,
Who her full fountaine takes from my wast Westerne wild,
(Whence all but Mountaineers, by Nature are exild)
On Langstrethdale, and lights at th'entrance of her race,
When keeping on her course, along through Barden Chase,
Shee watreth Wharfdales breast, which proudly beares her name;
For by that time shees growne a flood of wondrous fame,
When Washbrooke with her wealth her Mistris doth supply;
Thus Wharfe in her braue course imbracing Wetherby,
Small Cock, a sullen Brooke comes to her succour then,
Whose Banks receau'd the blood of many thousand men,
On sad Palme Sunday slaine, that Towton-Field we call,
Whose Channell quite was chok'd with those that there did fall,
That Wharfe discolored was with gore, that then was shed,
The bloodiest field betwixt the White Rose, and the Red,
Of welneere fifteene fought in England first and last:

But whilst the goodly […] doth thus tow'rds Humber haste,
From Wharnside Hill not farre, outflowes the nimble Nyde,
Through Nydersdale along, as neatly she doth glide
Tow'rds Knarsburg on her way, a pretty little Rill,
Call'd Kebeck, stowes her streame, her Mistris Banks to fill,
To intertaine the Whafe where that braue Forrest stands,
Entitled by the Towne, who with vpreared hands
Makes signes to her of ioy, and doth with Garlands crowne
The Riuer passing by; but Wharfe that hasteth downe
To meet her Mistris Ouse, her speedy course doth hie;
Dent, Rother, Riuell, Gret, so on my Set haue I,
Which from their fountaines there all out of me do flow,
Yet from my bounty I on Lancashire bestow,
Because my rising soyle doth shute them to the West:
But for my Mountaines I, will with the Isle contest,
All other of the North in largenesse shall exceed,
That ages long before it finally decreed,
That Ingleborow Hill, Pendle, and Penigent,
Should named be the high'st betwixt our Tweed and Trent.
My Hills, braue Whelpston then, thou Wharnside, and thou Cam,
Since I West-Riding still your onely mother am;
All that Report can giue, and iustly is my due,
I as your naturall Dam, share equally with you;
And let me see a Hill that to the North doth stand,
The proudest of them all, that dare but lift a hand
O'r Penigent to peere; not Skiddo, that proud Mount,
Although of him so much, Rude Cumberland account,
Nor Cheuiot, of whose height Northumberland doth boast
Albania to suruey; nor those from Coast to Coast
That welneere runne in length, that rew of Mountaines tall,
By th'name of th'English Alpes, that our most learned call;
As soone shall those, or these remoue out of their place,
As by their lofty lookes, my Penigent out face:
Yee thus behold my Hills: my Forrests, Dales, and Chases
Vpon my spacious breast note too how Nature places,
Farre vp into my West, first Langstrethdale doth lye,
And on the Banke of Wharfe, my pleasant Bardon by,
With Wharfdale hard by her, as taking hand in hand:
Then lower tow'rds the Sea braue Knarsborough doth stand,
As higher to my North, my Niddersdale by Nyde,
And Bishopsdale aboue vpon my Setting side,
Marshland, and Hatfield Chase, my Easterne part doe bound,
And Barnsdale there doth butt on Dons wel-watred ground:
And to my great disgrace, if any shall obiect
That I no wonder haue that's worthy of respect
In all my spacious Tract, let them (so wise) suruey
My Ribbles rising Banks, their worst, and let them say;
At Giggleswick where I a Fountaine can you show,
That eight times in a day is sayd to ebbe and flow,
Who sometime was a Nymph, and in the Mountaines hye
Of Crauen, whose blew heads for Caps put on the Skye,
Amongst th'Oread's there, and Syluans made abode,
(It was e'r humane foot vpon those Hills had trod)
Of all the Mountaine kind and since she was most faire,
It was a Satyrs chance to see her siluer haire
Flow loosely at her backe, as vp a Cliffe she clame,
Her Beauties noting well, her Features, and her Frame,
And after her he goes; which when she did espie,
Before him like the winde, the nimble Nymph doth flie,
They hurry downe the Rocks, o'r Hill and Dale they driue;
To take her he doth straine, t'outstrip him shee doth striue,
Like one his kind that knew, and greatly fear'd his Rape,
And to the Topick gods by praying to escape,
They turn'd her to a Spring, which as she then did pant,
When wearied with her course, her breath grew wondrous scant:
Euen as the fearefull Nymph, then thicke and short did blow,
Now made by them a Spring, so doth shee ebbe and flow.
And neere the Streame of Nyde, another Spring haue I,
As well as that, which may a wonders place supply,
Which of the forme it beares, men Dropping well doe call,
Because out of a Rock, it still in drops doth fall,
Neere to the foot whereof it makes a little Pon,
Which in as little space conuerteth Wood to Stone,
Cheuin, and Kilnsey Crags, were they not here in me,
In any other place, right well might Wonders be,
For their Gygantick height, that Mountaines doe transcend?
But such are frequent here, and thus she makes an end.

When Your thus hauing heard the Genius of this Tract,
Her well-deserued praise so happily to act,
This Riuer in her selfe that was extreamely loth,
The other to deferre, since that shee was to both
Indifferent, straitly wills West-riding there to cease;
And hauing made a signe to all the watry prease
For silence; which at once, when her commaund had wonne,
The proud North-Riding thus for her great selfe begunne.

My soueraigne Flood, quoth shee, in nature thou art bound
T'acknowledge me of three to be the worthiest ground:
For note of all those Floods, the wild West-Riding sends,
Ther's scarcely any one thy greatnesse that attends,
Till thou hast passed Yorke, and drawest neere thy fall;
And when thou hast no need of their supplies at all,
Then come they flattring in, and will thy followers be;
So as you oftentimes these wretched worldlings see,
That whilst a man is poore, although some hopes depend
Vpon his future age, yet ther's not one will lend
A farthing to releeue his sad distressed state,
Not knowing what may yet befall him; but when Fate
Doth poure vpon his head his long expected good,
Then shall you see those Slaues, aloofe before that stood,
And would haue let him starue, like Spaniels to him crouch,
And with their glauering lips, his very feet to touch:
So doe they by thee Your; whereas the Floods in me,
That spring and haue their Course, (euen) giue thy life to thee:
For till that thou and Swale, into one Banke doe take,
Meeting at Borough-Bridge, thy greatnesse there to make:
Till then the name of Ouse thou art not knowne to owe,
A tearme in former times the Ancients did bestow
On many a full-bankt Flood; but for my greater grace,
These Floods of which I speake, I now intend to trace
From their first springing Founts, beginning with the Your,
From Moruils mightie foot which rising, with the power
That Bant from Sea-mere brings, her somewhat more doth fill,
Neere Bishops-dale at hand, when Couer a cleere Rill,
Next commeth into Your, whereas that lustie Chace
For her lou'd Couers sake, doth louingly embrace
Your as shee yeelds along, amongst the Parks and Groues,
In Middlehams amorous eye, as wandringly shee roues,
At Rippon meets with Skell, which makes to her amaine,
Whom when she hath receau'd into her Nymphish traine,
(Neere to that towne so fam'd, for Colts there to be bought,
For goodnesse farre and neere, by Horsemen that are sought)
Fore-right vpon her way shee with a merryer gale,
To Borough Bridge makes on, to meet her sister Swale,
(A wondrous holy Flood (which name she euer hath)
For when the Saxons first receau'd the Christian Faith,
Paulinus of old Yorke, the zealous Bishop then,
In Swales abundant streame Christned ten thousand men,
With women and their babes, a number more beside,
Vpon one happy day, whereof shee boasts with pride)
Which springs not farre from whence Your hath her siluer head;
And in her winding Banks along my bosome led,
As shee goes swooping by, to Swaledale whence shee springs,
That louely name shee leaues, which foorth a Forrest brings,
The Vallies Style that beares, a brauer Syluan Mayd,
Scarce any Shire can show; when to my Riuers ayd,
Come Barney, Arske, and Marske, their soueraigne Swale to guide,
From Applegarths wide waste, and from New Forrest side.
Whose Fountaines by the Fawnes, and Satyrs, many a yeere,
With youthfull Greens were crownd, yet could not stay thé there,
But they will serue the Swale, which in her wandring course,
A Nymph nam'd Holgat hath, and Risdale, all whose force,
Small though (God wot) it be, yet from their Southerne shore,
With that salute the Swale, as others did before,
At Richmond and ariue, which much doth grace the Flood,
For that her Precinct long amongst the Shires hath stood:
But Yorkshire wills the same her glory to resigne.
When passing thence the Swale, this mineon Flood of mine
Next takes into her traine, cleere Wiske, a wanton Gyrle,
As though her watry path were pau'd with Orient Pearle,
So wondrous sweet she seemes, in many a winding Gyre,
As though shee Gambolds made, or as she did desire,
Her Labyrinth-like turnes, and mad Meandred trace,
With maruell should amaze, and comming doth imbrace
North-Alerton, by whom her honour is increast,
Whose Liberties include a County at the least,
To grace the wandring Wiske, then well vpon her way,
Which by her count'nance thinks to carry all the sway;
When hauing her receau'd, Swale bonny Codbeck brings,
And Willowbeck with her, two pretty Riuellings,
And Bedall bids along, then almost at the Ouze,
Who with these Rills enrich'd begins her selfe to rouse.
When that great Forrest-Nymph faire Gautresse on her way,
Shee sees to stand prepar'd, with Garlands fresh and gay
To decke vp Ouze, before her selfe to Yorke she show,
So out of my full wombe the Fosse doth likewise flow,
That meeting thee at Yorke, vnder the Cities side,
Her glories with thy selfe doth equally diuide,
The East part watring still, as thou dost wash the West,
By whose Imbraces Yorke aboundantly is blest.
So many Riuers I continually maintaine,
As all those lesser Floods that into Darwin straine,
Their Fountaines find in me, the Ryedale naming Rye,
Fosse, Rycall, Hodbeck, Dow, with Semen, and them by
Cleere Costwy, which her selfe from Blackmore in doth bring,
And playing as shee slides through shady Pickering,
To Darwent homage doth; and Darwent that diuides
The East-riding and me, vpon her either sides,
Although that to vs both, she most indifferent bee,
And seemeth to affect her equally with me,
From my Diuision yet her Fountaine doth deriue,
And from my Blackmore here her Course doth first contriue.

Let my Demensions then be seriously pursude,
And let great Britaine see in my braue Latitude,
How in the high'st degree, by nature I am grac'd;
For tow'rds the Crauen Hills, vpon my West are plac'd
New-Forrest, Applegarth, and Swaledale, Dryades all,
And lower towards the Ouze, if with my Floods ye fall,
The goodly Gautresse keeps chiefe of my Syluan kind,
There stony Stanmore view, bleake with the Sleet and Wind,
Vpon this Easterne side, so Ryedale darke and deepe,
Amongst whose Groues of yore, some say that Elues did keepe;
Then Pickering, whom the Fawnes beyond them all adore,
By whom not farre away lyes large-spred Blackimore,
The Cleeueland North from these, a State that doth maintaine,
Leaning her lustie side to the great Germane Maine,
Which if she were not heere confined thus in me,
A Shire euen of her selfe might well be said to be.

Nor lesse hath Pickering Leigh, her libertie then this,
North-Alerton a Shire so likewise reckoned is;
And Richmond of the rest, the greatest in estate,
A Countie iustly call'd, that them accommodate;
So I North-Riding am, for spaciousnesse renown'd,
Our mother Yorkshires eldst, who worthily is crown'd
The Queene of all the Shires, on this side Trent, for we
The Ridings seuerall parts of her vaste greatnesse be,
In vs, so we againe haue seuerall seats, whose bounds
Doe measure from their sides so many miles of grounds,
That they are called Shires; like to some mightie King,
May Yorkshire be compar'd, (the lik'st of any thing)
Who hath Kings that attend, and to his State retaine,
And yet so great, that they haue vnder them againe
Great Princes, that to them be subiect, so haue we
Shires subiect vnto vs, yet wee her subiects be;
Although these be ynough sufficiently to show,
That I the other two for brauery quite out-goe:
Yet looke yee vp along into my Setting side,
Where Teis first from my bounds, rich Dunelme doth diuide,
And you shall see those Rills, that with their watry prease,
Their most beloued Teis so plenteously increase,
The cleere yet lesser Lune, the Bauder, and the Gret,
All out of me doe flow; then turne ye from the Set,
And looke but tow'rds the Rise, vpon the German Maine,
Those Rarities, and see, that I in me containe;
My Scarborough, which looks as though in heauen it stood,
To those that lye below, from th' Bay of Robin Hood,
Euen to the fall of Teis; let me but see the man,
That in one Tract can show the wonders that I can,
Like Whitbies selfe I thinke, ther's none can shew but I,
O'r whose attractiue earth there may no wild geese flie,
But presently they fall from off their wings to ground:
If this no wonder be, wher's there a wonder found,
And stones like Serpents there, yet may yee more behold,
That in their naturall Gyres are vp together rold.
The Rocks by […] too, my glories forth to set,
Out of their cranied Cleeues, can giue you perfect […],
And vpon Huntclipnab, you euery where may find,
(As though nice Nature lou'd to vary in this kind)
Stones of a Spherick forme of sundry […] fram'd,
That well they Globes of stone, or bullets might be nam'd
For any Ordnance fit: which broke with Hammers blowes,
Doe headlesse Snakes of stone, within their Rounds enclose.
Marke Gisboroughs gay Scite, where Nature seemes so nice,
As in the same shee makes a second Paradice,
Whose Soyle imbroydered is, with so rare sundry Flowers,
Her large Okes so long greene, as Summer there her Bowers,
Had set vp all the yeare, her ayre for health refin'd,
Her earth with Allome veines most richly intermin'd.
In other places these might […] be thought,
So common but in me, that I esteeme as nought.
Then could I reckon vp my Ricall, making on
By Rydale, towards her dear-lou'd Darwent, who's not gone
Farre from her pearly Springs, but vnder-ground she goes;
As vp towards Crauen Hills, I many haue of those,
Amongst the cranied Cleeues, that through the […] creepe,
And dimbles hid from day, into the earth so deepe,
That oftentimes their sight, the senses doth appall,
Which for their horrid course, the people Helbecks call,
Which may for ought I see, be with my Wonders set,
And with much maruell seene: that I am not in debt
To none that neigboureth me; nor ought can they me lend.
When Darwent bad her stay, and there her speech to end,
For that East-Riding cald, her proper cause to plead:
For Darwent a true Nymph, a most impartiall Mayd,
And like to both ally'd, doth will the last should haue
That priuiledge, which time to both the former gaue,
And wills th'East-Riding then, in her owne cause to speake,
Who mildly thus begins; Although I be but weake,
To those two former parts, yet what I seeme to want
In largenesse, for that I am in my Compasle scant,
Yet for my Scite I know, that I them both excell;
For marke me how I lye, ye a note me very well,
How in the East I raigne, (of which my name I take)
And my broad side doe beare vp to the German Lake,
Which brauely I suruey; then turne ye and behold
Vpon my pleasant breast, that large and spacious Ould
Of Torke that takes the name, that with delighted eyes,
When he beholds the Sunne out of the Seas to rise,
With pleasure feeds his Flocks, for which he scarse giues place
To Cotswold, and for what becomes a Pastorall grace,
Doth goe beyond him quite; then note vpon my South,
How all along the Shore, to mighty Humbers mouth,
Rich Holdernesse I haue, excelling for her graine,
By whose much plentie I, not onely doe maintaine
My selfe in good estate, but Shires farre off that lye,
Vp Humber that to Hull, come euery day to buy,
To me beholding are; besides, the neighbouring Townes,
Vpon the Verge whereof, to part her, and the Downes,
Hull downe to Humber hasts, and takes into her Banke
Some lesse but liuely Rills, with waters waxing ranke,
Shee Beuerley salutes, whose beauties so delight
The fayre-enamoured Flood, as rauisht with the sight,
That shee could euer stay, that gorgeous Phane to view,
But that the Brooks, and Bournes, so hotly her pursue,
To Kingston and conuey, whom Hull doth newly name,
Of Humber-bordring Hull, who hath not heard the fame:
And for great Humbers selfe, I challenge him for mine:
For whereas […] first, and Sheifleet doe combine,
By meeting in their course, so courteously to twin,
Gainst whom on th'other side, the goodly Trent comes in,
From that especiall place, great Humber hath his raigne,
Beyond which hee's mine owne: so I my Course maintaine,
From Kilnseys pyle-like poynt, along the Easterne shore,
And laugh at Neptunes rage, when lowdl'est he doth rore,
Till Flamborough iutt foorth into the German Sea.
And as th'East-Riding more yet ready was to say,
Ouse in her owne behalfe doth interrupt her speech,
And of th'Imperious land doth liberty beseech,
Since she had passed […], and in her wandring race,
By that faire Cities scite, receiued had such grace,
Shee might for it declame, but more to honor Yorke,
Shee who supposd the same to bee her onely worke,
Still to renowne those Dukes, who strongly did pretend
A title to the Crowne, as those who did descend
From them that had the right, doth this Oration make,
And to vphold their claime, thus to the Floods she spake.

They very idly erre, who thinke that blood then spilt,
In that long-lasting warre, proceeded from the guilt,
Of the proud Yorkist, […]; for let them vnderstand,
That Richard Duke of Yorke, whose braue and martiall hand
The Title vndertooke, by tyranny and might,
Sought not t'attaine the Crowne, but from succesfull right,
Which still vpheld his claime, by which his valiant sonne,
Great Edward Earle of March, the Garland after wonne:
For Richard Duke of Yorke, at Wakefield Battell slaine,
Who first that title broach'd, in the […] Henries raigne,
From Edmond a fift sonne of Edward did descend,
That iustly he thereby no title could pretend,
Before them com'n from Gaunt, well knowne of all to be,
The fourth to Edward borne, and therefore a degree
Before him to the Crowne; but that which did preferre
His title, was the match with Dame Anne Mortimer,
Of Roger Earle of March the daughter, that his claime,
From Clarence the third sonne of great King Edward came,
Which Anne deriu'd alone, the right before all other,
Of the delapsed Crowne, from Philip her faire mother,
Daughter and onely heire of Clarence, and the Bride
To Edmond Earle of March; this Anne her daughter tide
In wedlocke to the Earle of Cambridge, whence the right
Of Richard as I said, which fell at Wakefield fight,
Descended to his sonne, braue Edward after King,
(Henry the sixt depos'd) thus did the Yorkists bring
Their title from a straine, before the line of Gaunt,
Whose issue they by Armès did worthily supplant.

By this the Ouze perceau'd great Humber to looke grim;
(For euermore shee hath a speciall eye to him)
As though he much disdain'd each one should thus be heard,
And he their onely King, vntill the last defer'd,
At which hee seem'd to frowne; wherefore the Ouze off breaks,
And to his confluent Floods, thus mighty Humber speaks.

Let Trent her tribute pay, which from their seuerall founts,
For thirtie Floods of name, to me her King that counts,
Be much of me belou'd, braue Riuer; and from me,
Receiue those glorious Rites that […] can giue to thee.
And thou Marsh-drowning Don, and all those that repaire
With thee, that bringst to me thy easie […] Aire,
Embodying in one Banke: and Wharfe, which by thy fall
Dost much augment my Ouze, let me embrace you all,
My braue West-Riding Brooks, your King you need not […],
Proud Nyades neither yee, North-Riders that are borne;
My yellow-sanded Your, and thou my sister Swale,
That dauncing come to […], through many a daintie Dale,
Doe greatly me inrich, cleare Darwent driuing downe
From Cleeueland; and thou Hull, that highly dost renowne
Th'East-Riding by thy rise, doe homage to your King,
And let the Sea Nymphs thus of […] Humber sing;
That full an hundred Floods my […] Court maintaine,
Which either of themselues, or in their greaters traine,
Their Tribute pay to me; and for my princely name,
From Humber King of […], as anciently it came;
So still I sticke to him: for from that Easterne King
Once in me drown'd, as I my Pedigree doe bring:
So his great name receiues no preiudice thereby;
For as he was a King, so know ye all that I
Am King of all the Floods, that North of Trent doe flow;
Then let the idle world no more such cost bestow,
Nor of the muddy Nyle, so great a Wonder make,
Though with her bellowing fall, shee violently take
The neighbouring people deafe; nor Ganges so much praise,
That where he narrowest is, eight miles in broadnesse layes
His bosome, nor so much hereafter shall be spoke
Of that (but lately found) Guyanian Orenoque,
Whose Cateract a noyse so horrible […] keepe,
That it euen Neptune frights; what Flood comes to the Deepe,
Then Humber that is heard more horribly to rore?
For when my Higre comes, I make my either shore
Euen tremble with the sound, that I afarre doe send.

No sooner of this speech had Humber made an end,
But the applauding. Floods sent foorth so shrill a shout,
That they were eas'ly heard all Holdernesse about,
Aboue the Beachy Brack, amongst the Marshes rude,
When the East-Riding her Oration to conclude,
Goes on; My Sisters boast that they haue little Shires
Their subiects, I can shew the like of mine for theirs;
My Howdon hath as large a Circuit, and as free,
On Ouse, and Humbers banks, and as much graceth me,
My Latitude compar'd with those that me oppugne:
Not Richmond nor her like, that doth to them belong,
Doth grace them more then this doth me, vpon my coast,
And for their wondrous things, whereof so much they boast,
Vpon my Easterne side, which iutts vpon the Sea,
Amongst the white-scalp'd Cleeues, this wonder see they may,
The Mullet, and the Awke, (my Fowlers there doe finde)
Of all great Britain brood, Birds of the strangest kind,
That building in the Rocks, being taken with the hand,
And cast beyond the Cliffe, that poynteth to the land,
Fall instantly to ground, as though it were a stone,
But put out to the Sea, they instantly are gone,
And flye a league or two before they doe returne,
As onely by that ayre, they on their wings were borne.
Then my Prophetick Spring at Veipsey, I may show,
That some yeares is dry'd vp, some yeares againe doth flow;
But when it breaketh out with an immoderate birth,
It tells the following yeare of a penurious dearth.

Here ended shee her speech, the Ridings all made friends,
And from my tyred hand, my labored Canto ends.