Ye Carpette Knyghte

I have a horse—a ryghte good horse—
   Ne doe Y envye those
Who scoure ye playne yn headye course
   Tyll soddayne on theyre 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 woote:
Yt ys a mutton-saddel, loe!
   Parte of ye fleecye brute.

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