Master Basse his Career, OR The new Hunting of the Hare. To a new Court tune.  
 

LOng ere the Morn expects the return of Apollo from the Ocean Queen:  
Before the creak of the Croe or the break of the day in the Welkin is seen,  
Mounted Idelia cheerfully makes to the Chase with his Bugle clear:  
And nimbly bounds to the cry of the Hounds and the Music of his Career.   

Oft doth ha' trace, through Wood, Park and Chase, when he mounteth his Steed aloft:  
Oft he doth run beyond far his home, and deceiveth his pillow soft:  
Oft he expects, yet still hath defects, for still he is crossed by the Hare:  
But more often he bounds to the cry of his Hounds, and doth thunder out his Career.   

Hercules' Hunted and spoilt the game, wheresoever he made his sport:  
Adonis did Hunt but was slain by the same, through juno's bad consort:  
Nep●haly to, did the heart over go, and he purged the Forests there,  
When his horn did rebound, the noise to the hound, he did thunder out his Career.   

Now bonny Bay with his foam waxeth Grey, deep Grace waxeth Bay with blood:  
White Lily tops doth send for their Caps, black Lady makes it good:  
Sorrowful Watte, her widow's estate, forgets these delights to hear,  
And nimbly bounds to the cry of the Hound, and doth thunder out his Career.   

Hills with the heat of the Galloppers sweat, Revives their fréezing tops:  
Dales purple flowers, the spring from the showers, which down from the Rowels drops:  
Swains they repast, and Strangers they hast, no neglect when our Horns they hear:  
To see a fleet pack of Hounds in a sheet, and the Hunter in his Caréere.   

Thus he Caréeres over the Moors, or the méeres, over deeps, over Downs and Day:  
Till he hath won, the day from the Sun, and the evening from the day,  
Sports than he ends, and joyfully wends home to his Cottage, where  
Frankly he feasts both himself and his Guests, and carowseth to his Caréere.   
FINIS.   

The Falconers Hunting.  
To the tune of Basse his Career.  
 

Early in the morn, when the night's overworn, and Apollo with his golden beams:  
The Daystar overtakes, and Cynthia forsakes, to frolic with his silver streams.  
We with our delights, and the Haggard in our flights, that afronts the Celestial Sphere:  
With lures and with trains, we gallop over the plains, to behold a Cancecléere.   

From the fist she goes, and her nimbly throws, to out fly the whistling wind:  
Onward still again, over bush over plain, till her Gelding gen faintly she finds:  
An upshot than she makes, till the clouds she overtakes, her ambition rests not there:  
But mounting still she flies, like a Phoenix in the skies, and comes down with a Cancecléere.   

Mounting in the Sky, to the shape of a Fire, like a spark of Elemental Fire:  
Upward then she tends to make good her place amends, till the Retriefe gives her desire:  
No Swallow, nor dove, their clipping wings can move like her when i'the Clouds they appear:  
She comes down from above, like the thunderbolt of jove, and doth st●●pe with a Cancecleere.   

Both young and old prepare, to the sport that is so rare from their weary labour coming for to see:  
Lifting up their eyes from the Plains to the Skies, where the wonders of the Welkin's be:  
The Spirits of the Air in huddles do repair, the Music of the Bells for to hears,  
And quickly fly apart affrighted at the heart, when she stoops to the Cancecléere.   

The Mallard with complaints in her golden feathers faints while the Haggard with the coy disdain:  
Triumphant in her prey, concludes the Evening grey with a pleasant and a lovely gain:  
Homeward than we wend, & the twilight than we spen● in discourse our delights to hear:  
We taste the Quail we killed, and carouse in what is fill● which goes round with a Cancecleere.   
FINIS.   

Printed at London by E. A.