Oon of anonymouses bettir workes, thes poemes are ycopyed fresshe from a manuscript
contaynyge many othir thinges. Thei are songes of loue both goostly and
bodili, and oft speke of a knightes loue for his horse, the which he
calleth hys ‘motourbyk,’ the which he “liveth to riden, and rideth to
liven,” or othertimes thei speke of a knightes affecioun for his
‘chopper’ (his axe?) or his ‘hogge’ (why raiseth a knight pigges?) or
his “mama” (gentil remembraunce of oones mothir ys fayre and
chivalrous). Heere ys oon ensaumple of this straunge but plesaunte
verse:

"Maketh motor for to runne
Shoopen vs to to heigh-waye
No aventure shal we shunne
In what-evir cometh ower waye

Yn the smok and lightening
Blastes of hevy metal
Wyth the wind goon racing-
The felinge is so goode

An hendy happe ichabbe hent,
From nature pure we aren sent
Vndyinge we kan make ascent
For borne we are to wexen woode