Heare HANNO standes, and lookes into the skye,
And feedes him selfe, with hope of future praise:
Unto his birdes, he dothe his eare applie,
And trustes in tyme, that they his name should raise:
For they weare taughte, before they flewe abrode,
Longe tyme to saie, that HANNO was a God.
But, when the birdes from bondage weare releast,
And in the woodes, with other birdes weare join'de,
Then HANNOS name, theire woonted lesson ceaste,
For eache did singe, accordinge to his kinde:
Then flee this faulte. Ambition workes our shame,
And vertue love, which dothe extoll our name.