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the brook and the willow, that heard him complain.

Ah willow! willow!

Poor Colin went weeping, and told them his pain. Sweet ftream, he cried, fadly I'll teach thee to How, And the waters fhall rife to the brink with my woe. All reftlefs and painful my Celia now lies, And counts the fad moments of time as it flies: To the nymph, my heart's love, ye foft flumbers, repair, [your care; Spread your downy wings o'er her, and make her Let me be left reftlefs, mine eyes never clofe, So the fleep that I lofe give my dear one repote. Sweet ftream! if you chance by her pillow to creep, Perhaps your foft murmurs may lull her to fleep. But if I am doom'd to be wretched indeed, And the lofs of my charmer the fates have decreed, Believe me, thou fair one, thou dear believe, Few fighs to thy lofs, and few tears will I give; One fate to thy Colin and thee hall betide, And foon lay thy fhepherd down by thy cold fide. Then glide, gentle brook, and to lofe thyfelf hafte, Bear this to my willow; this verfe is my last.

one,

Ah willow! willow! Ah willow willow4

§ 96. Song.

DEA
EAR Chloe, while thus beyond measure
You treat me with doubts and difdain,
You rob all your youth of its pleasure,

And hoard up an old age of pain:
Your maxim, that love is ftill founded
On charms that will quickly decay,
You will find to be very ill-grounded
When once you its dictates obey.
The paffion from beauty first drawn

Your kindnefs will vaftly improve;
Soft looks and gay fmiles are the dawn,
Fruition's the funthine of love:
And though the bright beams of your eyes
Should be clouded, that now are so gay,
And darknefs obfcure all the skies,

We ne'er can forget it was day.
Old Darby, with Joan by his fide,
You oft have regarded with wonder;
He is dropfical, the is fore-eyed,

Yet they 're ever uneafy afunder:
Together they totter about,

And fit in the fun at the door;
And at night, when old Darby's pipe 's out,
His Joan will not fmoke a whiff more.
No beauty or wit they poffefs,

Their feveral failings to fmother;
Then what are the charins, can you guefs,
That make them fo fond of cach other?
'Tis the pleafing remembrance of youth,

The endearments that love did bestow,
The thoughts of paft pleasure and truth,
The best of all bleflings below.
Thefe traces for ever will laft,

Which fickness nor time can removej
For when youth and beauty are past,
And age brings the winter of love,

A friendship infenfibly grows

By reviews of fuch raptures as thefe, And the current of fondnefs ftill flows. Which decrepit old age cannot freeze.

$97. Song. GILBERT COOPER.
AWAY! let nought to love difpleafing,
Mv Winifreda, move thy fear;
Let nought delay the heavenly bleffing,
Nor fqueamish pride, nor gloomy care.
What tho' no grants of royal donors

With pompous titles grace our blood;
We'll thine in more fubftantial honours,
And to be noble, we 'll be good.
What tho' from fortune's lavish bounty
No mighty treatures we poffels,
We'll find within our pittance plenty,
And be content without excels.
Still fhall each kind returning feafon
Sufficient for our wishes give;
For we will live a life of reafon,

And that's the only life to live.
Our name, while virtue thus we tender,
Shall fweetly found where'er 'tis fpoke,
And all the great ones much fhall wonder
How they admire fuch little folk.
Thro' youth and age, in love excelling,
We'll hand in hand together tread;
Sweet fimiling peace fhall crown our dwelling,
And babes, tweet fmiling babes, our bed.
How should I love the pretty creatures,

Whilt round my knees they fondly clung,
To fee them look their mother's features,
To hear them lip their mother's tongue!
And when with envy time transported

Shall think to rob us of our joys,
You'll in your girls again be courted,
And I'll go wooing in my boys.

$98. Song. PERCY. NANCY! wilt thou go with me, Nor figh to leave the flaunting town? Can filent glens have charms for thee, The lowly cot and ruffet gown? No longer dreft in filken sheen,

No longer deck'd with jewels rare, Say, canft thou quit each courtly scene, Where thou wert fairest of the fair? O Nancy! when thou 'rt far away,

Wilt thou not caft a wifh behind? Say, canft thou face the parching ray,

Nor fhrink before the wintry wind! O can that foft and gentle mien

Extremes of hardthip learn to bear, Nor fad regret each courtly scene, Where thou wert faireft of the fair? O Nancy! canft thou love so true,

Thro' perils keen with me to go; Or, when thy fwain mishap shall rue, To share with him the pang of woe 3 M 3

Say

Say. fhould disease or pain befal,
Wilt thou affume the nurse's care,
Nor wistful thofe gay fcenes recal

Where thou wert fairest of the fair?
And when at last thy love fhall die,

Wilt thou receive his parting breath? Wilt thou reprefs each ftruggling figh,

And cheer with fmiles the bed of death? And wilt thou o'er his breathlefs clay

Strew flow'rs, and drop the tender tear? Nor then regret thofe fcenes fo gay, Where thou wert faireft of the fair?

MALLET.

99. Song.
THE fmiling morn, the breathing spring,
Invite the tuneful birds to fing;
And, while they warble from each spray,
Love melts the univerfal lay.

Let us, Amanda, timely wife,
Like them improve the hour that flies;
And in foft raptures wafte the day,
Among the fhades of ENDERMAY!

For foon the winter of the year,
And age, life's winter, will appear:
At this, thy living bloom muft fade;
As that will trip the verdant fhade.
Our tafte of pleafare then is o'er;
The feather'd fongfters love no more:
And when they droop, and we decay,
Adieu the fhades of ENDERMAY!

§ 100. The Spanish Lady's Love.
WILL you hear a Spanish lady,

How the woo'd an English man?
Garments gay, as rich as may be,

Deck'd with jewels had flie on:

Of a comely countenance and grace was fhe,
Both by birth and parentage of high degree.
As his prifoner there he kept her,
In his hands her life did lie;
Cupid's bands did tie them fafter,
By the liking of an eye.

In his courteous company was all her joy,
To favour him in any thing fhe was not coy.

But at laft there came commandment
For to fet all ladies free,
With their jewels (till adorned,

None to do them injury.

O then, faid this lady gay, full woe is me!
O let me ftill fuftain this kind captivity!
Gallant captain, fhew fome pity
To a lady in diftrefs;

Leave me not within this city,

For to die in heaviness:

Thou haft fet, this prefent day, my body free, But my heart in prifon fill remains with thee. "How fhouldst thou, fair lady, love me,

Whom thou know'ft thy country's foe? Thy fair words make me fufpe&t thee; Serpents lie where flowers grow."

All the harm I wish on thee, moft courteous

knight,

God grant upon my head the fame may fully light!
Bleffed be the time and feafon

That thou came on Spanish ground!
If you may our foes be termed,

Gentle foes we have you found:

With our city, you have won our hearts each one,
Then to your country bear away that is your own.
"Reft you ftill, moft gallant lady;

Reft you fill, and weep no more;
Of fair flowers you have plenty,

Spain doth yield you wondrous ftore.”
Spaniards fraught with jealoufy we oft do find,
But Englishmen throughout the world are counted
kind.

Leave me not unto a Spaniard,

Thou alone enjoy'st my heart;
I am lovely, young, and tender,
Love is likewife my defert:

Still to ferve thee day and night my mind is preft
The wife of ev'ry Englishman is counted blek.
“It would be a fhame, fair lady,
For to bear a woman hence;
English foldiers never carry

Any fuch without offence."

I will quickly change myfelf, if it be fo,
And like a page will follow thee where'er thou go.
"I have neither gold nor filver

To maintain thee in this cafe;
And to travel is great charges,

As you know in ev'ry place."

My chains and jewels ev'ry one shall be thy own, And eke ten thousand pounds in gold that lies unknown.

"On the feas are many dangers,

Many forms do there arife,
Which will be to ladies dreadful,

And force tears from wat'ry eyes."
Well, in troth I fhall endure extremity,
For I could find in heart to lofe my life for thee.
"Courteous lady, leave this folly.

Here comes all that breeds the ftrife;

I, in England, have already

A fweet woman to my wife;

I will not falfify my vow for gold nor gain,
Nor yet for all the faireft dames that live in Spain."

O how happy is that woman

That enjoys fo true a friend!
Many happy days God fend her!

And of my fuit I'll make an end:

On my knees I pardon crave for my offence, Which love and true affection did first commence,

Commend me to that gallant lady,

Bear to her this chain of gold,
With thefe bracelets, for a token;

Grieving that I was fo bold:

All my jewels, in like fort, take thou with thee; For they are ting for thy wife, but not for me. I will

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ΙΟΙ. Ballad The Children in the Wood; or, The Norfolk Gentleman's laft Will and Teftament. NOW ponder well, you parents dear,

The words which I fhall write;

A doleful story you fhall hear,
In time brought forth to light:

A gentleman of good account
In Norfolk liv'd of late,

Whose wealth and riches did furmount
Moft men of his eftate.

Sore fick he was, and like to die,
No help that he could have;
His wife by him as fick did lie,

And both poffefs'd one grave.
No love between thefe two was loft,
Each was to other kind:

In love they liv'd, in love they died,
And left two babes behind;

The one a fine and pretty boy,

Not paffing three years old:
Th' other a girl, more young than he,
And made in beauty's mould.
The father left his little fon,

As plainly doth appear,
When he to perfect age fhould come,
Three hundred pounds a year;
And to his little daughter Jane

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Five hundred pounds in gold,
To be paid down on marriage day,
Which might not be controul'd i
But if the children chanc'd to die
Ere they to age fhould come,
Their uncle fhould poffefs their wealth,
For fo the will, did run.

Now, brother, faid the dying man,
Look to my children dear;
Be good unto my boy and girl,

No friends elfe I have here:

To God and you I do commend
My children night and day;
But little while, be fure, we have
Within this world to itay.

8

You must be father and mother both, And uncle, all in one;

God knows what will become of them. When I am dead and gone,

With that befpake their mother dear:
O brother kind, quoth the,
You are the man must bring our babes
To wealth or mifery.

And if you keep them carefully,
Then God will you reward;
If otherwife you feem to deal,
God will your deeds regard.
With lips as cold as any ftone

She kifs'd her children fmall:
God blefs you both, my children dear !
With that the tears did fall.

Thefe fpeeches then their brother spoke
To this fick couple there:
The keeping of your children dear,
Sweet fifter, do not fear;
God never profper me nor mine,
Nor aught elfe that I have,
If I do wrong your children dear,
When you are laid in grave!

Their parents being dead and gone,
The children home he takes,
And brings them home unto his house,
And much of them he makes.
He had not kept these pretty babes
A twelvemonth and a day,
When for their wealth he did devife

To make them both away.

He bargain'd with two ruffians rude,
Which were of furious mood,
That they fhould take the children young,
And flay them in a wood.

He told his wife, and all he had,

He did the children fend
To be brought up in fair London,
With one that was his friend.

Away then went thefe pretty babes,
Rejoicing at that tide,
Rejoicing with a merry mind,

They thould on cock-horfe ride.
They prate and prattle pleasantly,
As they rode on the way,

To thofe that fhould their butchers be,
And work their lives' decay.

So that the pretty fpeech they had

Made murd'rers' hearts relent;
And they that undertook the deed
Full fore they did repent.
Yet one of them, more hard of heart,
Did vow to do his charge,
Because the wretch that hired him
Had paid him very large.

The other would not agree thereto,
So here they fell at ftrife;
With one another they did fight

About the children's life:
And he that was of mildeft mood
Did flay the other there,
Within an unfrequented wood;
While babes did quake for fear.
3 M 4

HO

He took the children by the hand,

When tears stood in their eye;
And bade them come and go with him,
And look they did not cry:
And two long miles he led them on,
While they for food complain:
Stay here, quoth he, I'll bring you bread,
When I do come again.

Thefe pretty babes with hand in hand
Went wandering up and down;
But never more they faw the man
Approaching from the town:
Their pretty lips with blackberries
Were all befmear'd and dy'd;
And when they faw the dark fome night,
They fat them down and cried.
Thus wander'd these two pretty babes,
Till death did end their grief;
In one another's arms they died,
As babes wanting relief:
No burial thefe pretty babes
Of any man receives,
Till Robin-red-breast painfully

Did cover them with leaves.

And now the heavy wrath of God
Upon their uncle fell;

Yea, fearful fiends did haunt his houfe,
His confcience felt a hell:

His barns were fir'd, his goods confum'd,
His lands were barren made,
His cattle died within the field,

And nothing with him ftaid.

And, in the voyage of Portugal,
Two of his fons did die;

And, to conclude, himself was brought
To extreme misery:

He pawn'd and mortg g'd all his land
Ere feven years came about,
And now at length this wicked act

Did by this means come out.
The fellow that did take in hand
Thefe children for to kill,-
Was for a robbery judg'd to die,

As was God's bleffed will;
Who did confefs the very truth,
The which is here exprefs'd;
Their uncle died, while he, for debt,
In prifon long did rest.

All you that be executors made,
And overfeers eke,

Of children that be father lefs,

And infants mild and meck, Take you example by this thing, And yield to each his right; Left God, with fuch-like mitery, Your wicked minds requite.

$102. Ballad. The Hunting in Chevy-Chafe. GOD profper long our noble king,

Our lives and fafeties all!

A woeful hunting once there did
In Chevy-Chale befal:

To drive the deer with hound and hon
Earl Percy took his way;
The child may rue that is unborn
The hunting of that day.
The ftout earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make,
His pleafure in the Scottish woods
Three fummer's days to take;
The chiefeft barts in Chevy-Chafe
To kill and bear away.
Thefe tidings to earl Douglas came
In Scotland, where he lay;
Who fent earl Percy present word
He would prevent his fport.
The English earl, not fearing this,
Did to the woods refort,

With fifteen hundred bowmen bold;
All chofen men of might,

Who knew full well, in time of need,
To aim their fhafts aright.
The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran,
To chafe the fallow deer:
On Monday they began to hunt,
When day-light did appear;

And, long before high noon, they had
A hundred fat bucks flain;
Then, having din'd, the drovers went
To roufe them up again.

The bowmen muster'd on the hills,
Well able to endure:

Their backfides all, with fpecial care,
That day were guarded fure.

The hounds ran swiftly through the woods,
The nimble deer to take;

And with their cries the hills and dales
An echo thrill did make.

Lord Percy to the quarry went,

To view the flaughter'd deer;
Quoth he, Earl Douglas promifed
This day to meet me here:

If that I thought he would not come,
No longer would I stay.
With that a brave young gentleman
Thus to the earl did fay:

Lo! yonder doth earl Douglas come,
His men in armour bright;
Full twenty hundred Scottish fpears
All marching in our fight;
All men of pleafant Tividale,

Faft by the river Tweed.
Then ceafe your fport, earl Percy faid,
And take your bows with speed:
And now with me, my countrymen,
Your courage forth advance;
For never was there champion yet,
In Scotland or in France,

That ever did on horfeback come,

But, if my hap it were,

I durft encounter, man for man,
With him to break a fpear.

Earl

Earl Douglas on a milk-white fleed,
Moft like a baron bold,
Rode foremost of the company,

Whofe armour fhone like gold:
Shew me, faid he, whofe men you be
That hunt fo boldly here;
That, without my confent, do chafe
And kill my fallow-deer?

The man that firft did anfwer make,

Was noble Percy, he :

Who faid, We lift not to declare,

Nor fhew whofe men we be:

Yet will we fpend our dearest blood,
Thy chiefeft harts to flay.
Then Douglas fwore a folemn oath,
And thus in rage did fay :
Ere thus I will out-braved be,
One of us two fhall die:

I know thee well; an earl thou art,
Lord Percy: fo am I.

But trust me, Percy, pity it were,
And great offence, to kill
Any of thefe our harmless men,
For they have done no ill,
Let thou and I the battle try,
And fet our men afide.
Accurs'd be he, lord Percy faid,
By whom this is denied.
Then stepp'd a gallant 'fquire forth,
Witherington was his name,
Who faid, I would not have it told

To Henry our king, for fhame,
That e'er my captain fought on foot,
And I ftood looking on:
You be two earls, faid Witherington,
And I a 'fquire alone:

I'll do the beft that do I may,

While I have ftrength to stand; While I have pow'r to wield my fword, I'll fight with heart and hand. Our English archers bent their bows, Their hearts were good and true; At the firft flight of arrows fent,

Full threescore Scots they flew.

To drive the deer with hound and horn,
Earl Douglas had the bent;
A captain, mov'd with mickle pride,
The fpears to fhivers fent.
They clos'd full faft on ev'ry fide,
No flacknefs there was found;
And many a gallant gentleman

Lay gafping on the ground.
O Chrift! it was a grief to fee,
And likewife for to hear
The cries of men lying in their gore,

And scatter'd here and there.
At laft thefe two ftout earls did meet,
Like captains of great might;
Like lions mov'd, they laid on load,
And made a cruel fight.

They fought until they both did fwent,
With fwords of temper'd steel;
Until the blood, like drops of rain,

They trickling down did feel.
Yield thee, lord Percy, Douglas faid
In faith I will thee bring
Where thou fhalt high advanced be
By James our Scottish king.

Thy ranfom I will freely give,
And thus report of thee:
Thou art the moft courageous knight
That ever I did fee:

No, Douglas, quoth earl Percy then,
Thy proffer I do fcorn;

I will not yield to any Scot
That ever yet was born.

With that there came an arrow keen
Out of an English bow,

Which ftruck earl Douglas to the heart,
A deep and deadly blow:

Who never spoke more words than thefe:
Fight on, my merry men all;

For why? my life is at an end :
Lord Percy fees my fall.

Then leaving life, earl Percy took
The dead man by the hand;
And faid, Earl Douglas, for thy life
Would I had loft my land!

O Chrift! my very heart doth bleed
With forrow for thy fake;
For fure a more renowned knight
Mifchance did never take.

A knight amongst the Scots there was,
Which faw earl Douglas die,
Who ftraight in wrath did vow revenge
Upon the earl Percy:

Sir Hugh Montgomery was he call'd;
Who, with a ipear moft bright,
Well mounted on a gallant fteed,

Ran fiercely through the fight :
And pafs'd the English archers all,
Without all dread or fear;
And through earl Percy's body then
He thrust his hateful spear:

With fuch a vehement force and might
He did his body gore,

The fpear went through the other fide

A large cloth yard, and more.
So thus did both these nobles die,
Whofe courage none could ftain.
An English archer then perceiv'd
The noble earl was flain;
He had a bow bent in his hand,

Made of a truity tree;
An arrow of a cloth-yard long
Up to the head drew he:
Against fir Hugh Montgomery
So right the fhaft he fet,
The grey-goofe wing that was thereon
In his heart-blood was wet.

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