Imatges de pÓgina
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Here as I stayde I saw a mayde,
A beauteous lovely creature,

With angels face and goddesse grace,
Of such exceeding feature.

Her lookes did so astonish me,

And set my heart a quaking,

Like stagge that gaz'de was I amaz'de,

And in a stranger taking.

Yet rouzed myself to see this elfe,

And loe a tree did hide me;

Where I unseene beheld this queene

A while, ere she espied me.

Her voyce was sweet melodiously,

Shee sung in perfect measure;

And thus she said with trickling teares;

Alas, my joy and treasure,

Ile be thy wife, or lose my life,
Theres no mau els shall have me;
If God say so, I will say no,
Although a thousand crave me,

Oh stay not long, but come, my deare,

And knit our marriage knot;

Each houre a day, eace month a yeare,

Thou knowst I think God wot.

Delay not then, like worldly men,

Good works till withered age:

Bove other things, the King of Kings
Blest a lawful marriage.

Thou

Thou art my choice, I constant ám e
I mean to die unspotted;

With thee ile live, for thee I love,
And keepe my name unblotted.
A vertuous life in maide and wife,
The spirit of God commends it :
Accursed he for ever be,

That seeks with shame to offend it.

t

With that she rose like like nimble roe,
The tender grasse scarce bending,
And left me there perplext with feare
At this her sonnets ending.

I thought to move this dame of love,
But she was gone already;

Wherefore I pray that those that stay
May find their loves as steddy.

From Hans Beer-Pot his invisible Comedie of See mee and see me not. 1618. A copy of this Song, wanting the fifth stanza, is printed in Ellis's Specimens.

The following seems worth insertion, as being the burden, or, to use the language of the time, the Foote of many popular old songs.

SONG

BY MOROS, OR THE FOOL.

Brome, brome on hill,

The gentle brome on hill hill,

Brome brome on hive hill,

The

Here as I stayde I saw a mayde,
A beauteous lovely creature,

With angels face and goddesse grace,
Of such exceeding feature.

Her lookes did so astonish me,

And set my heart a quaking,

Like stagge that gaz'de was I amaz'de,

And in a stranger taking.

Yet rouzed myself to see this elfe,

And loe a tree did hide me;

Where I unseene beheld this queene
A while, ere she espied me.

Her voyce was sweet melodiously,

Shee sung in perfect measure;

And thus she said with trickling teares;

Alas, my joy and treasure,

Ile be thy wife, or lose my life,
Theres no mau els shall have me;
If God say so, I will say no,
Although a thousand crave me,

Oh stay not long, but come, my deare,

And knit our marriage knot;

Each houre a day, eace month a yeare,

Thou knowst I think God wot.

Delay not then, like worldly men,

Good works till withered age:

Bove other things, the King of Kings
Blest a lawful marriage.

Thou

Thou art my choice, I constant am
I mean to die unspotted;

With thee ile live, for thee I love,
And keepe my name unblotted.
A vertuous life in maide and wife,
The spirit of God commends it:
Accursed he for ever be,

That seeks with shame to offend it.

With that she rose like like nimble roe,
The tender grasse scarce bending,
And left me there perplext with feare
At this her sonnets ending.

I thought to move this dame of love,
But she was gone already;

Wherefore I pray that those that stay
May find their loves as steddy.

From Hans Beer-Pot his invisible Comedie of See mee and see me not. 1618. A copy of this Song, wanting the fifth stanza, is printed in Ellis's Specimens.

The following seems worth insertion, as being the burden, or, to use the language of the time, the Foote of many popular old songs.

SONG

BY MOROS, OR THE FOOL.

Brome, brome on bill,

The gentle brome on hill hill,

Brome brome on hive hill,

The

The gentle brome on hive hill,

The brome standes on hivebill a.

Robin lende to me thy bowe, thy bowe,

Robin, the bow, Robin, lend to me thy bowe a.

There was a mayde came out of Kent,

Deintie love, deintie love.

Theere was a mayde came out of Kent,
Daungerous be.

There was a mayde came out of Kent,
Fayre, proper, small and gent
As ever upon the ground went,
For so it should be.

By a banke as I lay I lay,

Musing on things past hey how,

Tom a Lin and his wife and his wives mother,
They went over a bridge all three together:

The bridge was broken, and they fell in.
The devil go with all, quoth Tom a Lin.

Martin Swart and his man sodle dum, sodle dum,
Martin Swart and his man sodle dum bell

Com over the boorne Besse,

My pretie little Besse,

Come over the boorne Besse to me.
The white dove set on the castell wall,
I bend my bow, and shoote her I shall;
I put hir in my glove, both fethers and all,
I layd my bridle upon the shelfe,

If you will any more sing it yourselfe.

From a very merry and pythie Comedie, called "The longer thou livest the more Foole thou art," by W. Wager. In black letter. No date.

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