ABSTRACT
Enter a Noble man and his men from hunting LORD Now that the gloomie shaddow of the night, 10
Longing to view Orions drisling lookes, Leapes from th'antarticke World unto the skie And dims the Welkin with her pitchie breath, And darkesome night oreshades the christall heavens, Here breake we off our hunting for to night, Cupple uppe the hounds and let us hie us home, And bid the huntsman see them meated well, For they have all deserv'd it well to daie, But soft, what sleepie fellow is this lies heere?
