The soaring hawk, from fist that flies, Her falconer doth constrain Some times to range the ground about To find her out again; And if by sight or sound of bell, His falcon he may see, Wo ho! he cries, with cheerful voice The gladdest man is he. Handful of Pleasant Delites. At an early hour this morning, the Hall was in a bustle preparing for the sport of the day.
To this decade belong songs by Lyly and Peele, Lodge and Greene, which have already caught the delicate daintiness and the exquisite lilt of Shakespeare's songs and a host of others found in the later songbooks qualities of which there is little more than a rare hint here and there in the earlier Miscellanies, for all the bravery of such titles as A Paradise of Dainty Devises : A Gorgeous Gallery of Gallant Inventions : or A Handefull of Pleasant Delites .