At Yorke were ambassadours three, Of Russia--lordes of high degree, This shooting they desirde to see, As if it had been at London. And one desirde to draw a bowe, The force and strength thereof to knowe, And for his delight he drew it so As seldom seen in London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. And they did marvaile very much, There could be any archer such, To shoote so farre the cloute to tutch, Which is no news to London. And they might well consider than, An English shaft will kill a man, As hath been proved, where and whan, And chronicled since in London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. The earle of Cumberlande's archers won Two matches cleare, ere all was done, And I made haste a pace to ronne, To carrie these news to London. And Walmsley did the upshot win, With both his shafts so near the pin, You could scant have put three fingers in, As if it had been in London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. I passe not for my monie it cost, Though some I spent and some I lost, I wanted neither sod nor roast, As if it had been in London. For there was plentie of every thing, Redd and fallowe deere, for a king, I never saw so mery shooting, Since first I came from London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. God save the cittie of Yorke, therefore, That hath such noble friends in store, And such good aldermen send them more, And the like good luck at London. For it is not little joye to see, When lords and aldermen so agree, With such according cummunaltie, God send us the like in London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. God save the good earle of Cumberlande, His praise in golden lines shall stande, That maintains archerie through the land, As well as they do at London. Whose noble minde so courteously Acquaintes himself with the communaltie, To the glory of his nobilitie, I will carie the praise to London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. And tell the good earle of Essex thus, As he is now young and prosperus, To use such properties vertuous, Deserves great praise in London. For it is no little joy to see, When noble youths so gracious bee, To give their good willes to their countrie, As well as they do at London. Yorke, Yorke, &c. Farewell good cittie of Yorke to thee, Tell alderman Maltbie this from mee, In print shall this good shooting bee, As soone as I come at London. And many a song will I bestow, On all the musitians that I know, To sing the praises where they goe, Of the cittie of Yorke, in London. Yorke, Yorke, &c.