English poem
Stanza 140
But for the Foe came hourely in so fast, Lest they his Army should disordred take: The King who wisely doth the worst forecast, His speedy martch doth presently forsake, Into such forme and his Battalion cast; That doe their worst they should not eas'ly shake: For that his scouts which forrag'd had the Coast, Bad him at hand expect a puissant Host.