Encowl

King Alfred that his Christ he might more surely hold, Left his Northumbrian Crowne, and soone became encould,

1655, anonymous poem from the collection The Marrow of Compliments, in A. H. Bullen (ed.), Speculum Amantis, London, 1889, p. 98, And is’t not brave when summer’s robes Have all the fields encowled To have a green gown on the grass And wear it uncontroul’d?