At will I crop the year's increase;
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains;
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay.
He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain;
We share the toil and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by heaven assign'd.'
The tumult ceas'd, the colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

F. Gay

CVIII

ST. ROMUALD

One day, it matters not to know How many hundred years ago, A Frenchman stopt at an inn door: The Landlord came to welcome him and chat Of this and that,

For he had seen the traveller there before. 'Doth holy Romuald dwell

Still in his cell?'

The Traveller ask'd, 'or is the old man dead?' 'No; he has left his loving flock, and we So great a Christian never more shall see,' The Landlord answer'd, and he shook his head. 'Ah, sir, we knew his worth!

If ever there did live a saint on earth! Why, sir, he always used to wear a shirt For thirty days, all seasons, day and night. Good man, he knew it was not right For Dust and Ashes to fall out with Dirt! And then he only hung it out in the rain, And put it on again.

There has been perilous work
With him and the Devil there in yonder cell;
For Satan used to maul him like a Turk.
There they would sometimes fight,
All through a winter's night,

From sunset until morn.

He with a cross, the Devil with his horn;
The Devil spitting fire with might and main,
Enough to make St. Michael half afraid :
He splashing holy water till he made
His red hide hiss again,

And the hot vapour fill'd the smoking cell.
This was so common that his face became
All black and yellow with the brimstone flame,
And then he smelt... O dear, how he did smell!

'Then, sir, to see how he would mortify
The flesh! If any one had dainty fare,
Good man, he would come there,

And look at all the delicate things, and cry,

'O belly, belly,

You would be gormandizing now, I know;
But it shall not be so!

Home to your bread and water, home, I tell ye !'

But,' quoth the Traveller, 'wherefore did he leave
A flock that knew his saintly worth so well?'
'Why,' said the Landlord, 'Sir, it so befell
He heard unluckily of our intent

To do him a great honour; and you know
He was not covetous of fame below,

And so by stealth one night away he went.'

'What might this honour be?' the Traveller cried. 'Why, sir,' the host replied,

'We thought perhaps that he might one day leave us ;
And then should strangers have
The good man's grave.

A loss like that would naturally grieve us,
For he'll be made a saint of, to be sure.
Therefore we thought it prudent to secure
His relics while we might;

And so we meant to strangle him one night.'

CIX

R. Southey

LADY ALICE

Lady Alice was sitting in her bower window

At midnight mending her quoif;

And there she saw as fine a corpse

As ever she saw in her life.

'What bear ye, what bear ye, ye six men tall? What bear ye on your shoulders?'

'We bear the corpse of Giles Collins,

An old and true lover of yours.

'Oh, lay him down gently, ye six men tall,

All on the grass so green,

And to-morrow when the sun goes down,
Lady Alice a corpse shall be seen.

'And bury me in Saint Mary's church,
All for my love so true;

And make me a garland of marjoram,
And of lemon-thyme, and rue.'

Giles Collins was buried all in the east,

Lady Alice all in the west;

And the roses that grew on Giles Collins's grave, They reached Lady Alice's breast.

The priest of the parish he chanced to pass,
And he severed those roses in twain.

Sure never were seen such true lovers before,
Nor e'er will there be again.

Old Ballad

CX

THE OUTLANDISH KNIGHT

An outlandish knight came from the North lands, And he came a wooing to me;

And he told me he'd take me unto the North lands, And there he would marry me.

'Come, fetch me some of your father's gold, And some of your mother's fee;

And two of the best nags out of the stable, Where they stand thirty and three.'

She fetched him some of her father's gold And some of her mother's fee;

And two of the best nags out of the stable, Where they stood thirty and three.

She mounted her on her milk-white steed, He on the dapple grey;

They rode till they came unto the sea-side, Three hours before it was day.

'Light off, light off thy milk-white steed,
And deliver it unto me;

Six pretty maids have I drowned here,
And thou the seventh shall be.

'Pull off, pull off thy silken gown,

And deliver it unto me,
Methinks it looks too rich and too gay
To rot in the salt sea.

'Pull off, pull off thy silken stays,
And deliver them unto me!
Methinks they are too fine and gay
To rot in the salt sea.'

• Pull off, pull off thy Holland smock,
And deliver it unto me;

Methinks it looks too rich and gay
To rot in the salt sea.'