And boast that your luck you help with design, Tan, ta, ra, ra, ra ! Hark maids! more lots are drawn! prizes abound. As if at night the god of war had made Haste, haste, fair maids, and come away! Roses and pinks will be strewn where you go; When I am dead let him that did stay me My rose of youth is gone In seeking my grave, alas! let them know THE COQUET. 'TIS, in good truth, a most wonderful thing That love so many vexations should bring, Love's weather in maids should seldom hold fair: Like April's mine shall quickly alter; I'll give him to-night a lock of my hair, Yet love with a storm can take down their sails, THE LAW AGAINST LOVERS. LOVE PROSCRIBED. WAKE all the dead! what ho! what ho! How soundly they sleep whose pillows lie low? They mind not poor lovers who walk above Through wickets or through panes of glass; The world's at an end, and we come, we come. But O sad chance, his judge was old; Hearts cruel grown, when blood grows cold. No man being young, his process would draw. O heavens that love should be subject to law! Lovers go woo the dead, the dead! Lie two in a grave, and to bed, to bed! THE MAN'S THE MASTER. A DRINKING ROUND. THE bread is all baked, 'Tis midnight now by chanticleer's first crowing; Whilst 'top of the house The cats fall out in the heat of their wooing. Stay, stay, the nurse is waked, the child does cry, The cradle's rocked, the child is hushed again, This clashing does but shew, That, as in music, so in love must be Some discord to make up a harmony. Sing, sing! When crickets sing why should not we? The crickets were merry before us; The chimney's their church, the oven their quire. Let 'em ring, Let 'em sing, Whilst we spend the night in love and in laughter. When night is gone, O then too soon The discords and cares of the day come after. Come boys! a health, a health, a double health "Twill quickly grow early when it is late: To him, to me, To all who beauty love, and business hate. THE CRUEL BROTHER. GRIEVE NOT FOR THE PAST. EEP no more for what is past, WEB For time in motion makes such haste He hath no leisure to descry Those errors which he passeth by. If we consider accident, It And how repugnant unto sense GERVASE MARKHAM AND WILLIAM SAMPSON. [THESE writers belong to the time of Charles I., in whose service Markham bore a captain's commission. He was a writer of some authority in his day on agriculture and husbandry. Of Sampson nothing is known except that he was the author of two plays, and assisted Markham in the piece from which the following song is taken.] HEROD AND ANTIPATER. SIMPLES TO SELL. COME will you buy? for I have here The rarest gums that ever were; Come will you buy? Have medicines for that malady. Is there a lady in this place, Will make your pale cheeks plump and fat. Should I thus cry, And none a scruple of me buy? Come buy, you lusty gallants, These simples which I sell; In all your days were never seen like these, Here's the king-cup, the pansy with the violet, The rose that loves the shower, The wholesome gilliflower, Both the cowslip, lily, And the daffodilly, With a thousand in my power. Here's golden amaranthus, That true love can provoke, Of horehound store, and poisoning helebore, With the polipode of the oak; Here's chaste vervine, and lustful eringo, And rue which cures old age, Making fruitful mothers; All these attend me as my page. |