And then it started like a guilty thing / Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, / The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, / Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat / Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, / Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air / The extravagant and erring spirit hies / To his confine: and of the truth herein / This present object made probation.

their waved coats dropped with gold

Where the Bee ſucks, there ſuck I, / In a Cowſlips bell, I lie, / There I cowch when Owles doe crie, / On the Batts backe I doe flie / after Sommer merrily. / Merrily, merrily, ſhall I liue now / Vnder the bloſſom that hangs on the Bow.

They deserve to be inducted into a Congressional Wall of Shame.