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In the former edition of this book were inferted, by way of fpecimen of his majesty's poetic talents, fome Punning Verfes made on the difputations at Sterling: but it having been fuggefted to the editor, that the king only gave the VOL. II. quibbling

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quibbling commendations in profe, and that fome obfequious court-rhymer put them into metre *; it was thought proper to exchange them for two SONNETS of K. James's own compofition. James was a great verfifier, and therefore out of the multitude of his poems, we have here selected two, which (to fhew our impartiality) are written in his best and his worst manner. The first would not dishonour any writer of that time; the fecond is a most complete example of the Bathos.

A SONNET ADDRESSED BY KING JAMES TO HIS SON PRINCE HENRY:

From K. James's works in folio: Where is also printed another called his Majefty's own Sonnet; it would perhaps be too cruel to infer from thence that this was NOT his Majefty's own Sonnet.

OD gives not kings the ftile of Gods in vaine,
For on his throne his fcepter do they fwey:
And as their fubjects ought them to obey,
So kings fhould feare and serve their God againe.

If then ye would enjoy a happie reigne,

Obferve the ftatutes of our heavenly king;
And from his law make all your laws to fpring;
Since his lieutenant here ye fhould remaine.

Rewarde the juft, be ftedfaft, true and plaine;
Repreffe the proud, maintayning aye the right;
Walke always fo, as ever in His fight,
Who guardes the godly, plaguing the prophane.

See a folia intitled "The Mufes welcome to King James."

And

And fo ye fhall in princely vertues fhine,
Refembling right your mightie king divine.

A SONNET OCCASIONED BY THE BAD WEATHER WHICH HINDRED THE SPORTS AT NEW

MARKET IN JANUARY 1616.

This is printed from Drummond of Hawthornden's works, folio: where also may be feen fome verfes of Lord Stirling's upon this Sonnet, which concludes with the finest Anticlimax I remember to have feen.

TOW cruelly thefe catives do confpire ?

How
What loathfome love breeds fuch a baleful band

Betwixt the cankred king of Creta land *,
That melancholy old and angry fire,

And him, who wont to quench debate and ire

Among the Romans, when his ports were clos'd+?

But now his double face is ftill difpos'd,

With Saturn's help, to freeze us at the fire.

The earth ore-covered with a fheet of fnow,

Refufes food to fowl, to bird and beast :

The chilling cold lets every thing to grow,

And furfeits cattle with a starving feast.

Curs'd be that love and mought ‡ continue short,
Which kills all creatures, and doth spoil our sport.

X z

VI. K.

* Saturn.

+ Janus.

i.e. may it.

VI.

K. JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY.

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The common popular ballad of KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT feem to have been abridged and modernized about the time of James I. from one much older, intitled “KING JOHN AND THE BISHOP OF CANTERBURY." The Editor's folio MS. contains a copy of this laft, but in too corrupt a ftate to be reprinted; it however afforded many lines worth reviving, which will be found inserted in the enfuing stanzas.

The archness of the following questions and answers hath been much admired by our old ballad-makers; for befides the two copies above mentioned, there is extant another bal-· lad on the fame fubject, (but of no great antiquity or merit) intitled, "KING OLFREY AND THE ABBOT *." Laftly, about the time of the civil wars, when the cry ran against the Bishops, fome Puritan worked up the fame Story into a very doleful ditty, to a folemn tune, concerning "KING HENRY AND A BISHOP," with this flinging moral,

"Unlearned men hard matters out can find,
"When learned bishops princes eyes do blind.”

The

See the collection of Hift. Ballads, 3 vol. 1727. Mr. Wise Suppofes OLFREY to be a corruption of ALFRED, in his pamphlet concerning the WHITE HORSE in Berkshire, p. 15.

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The following is chiefly printed from an ancient blackletter copy, to " The tune of Derry down."

N ancient story Ile tell you anon

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Of a notable prince, that was called king John; And he ruled England with maine and with might, For he did great wrong, and maintein'd little right.

And Ile tell you a ftory, a ftory fo merrye,
Concerning the Abbot of Canterburye;
How for his house-keeping, and high renowne,
They rode pofte for him to fair London towne.

An hundred men, the king did heare say,
The abbot kept in his houfe every day;
And fifty golde chaynes, without any doubt,
In velvet coates waited the abbot about.

How now, father abbot, I heare it of thee,
Thou keepest a farre better house than mee,
And for thy house-keeping and high renowne,
I feare thou work'st treason against my crown.

My liege, quo' the abbot, I would it were knowne,
I never spend nothing, but what is my owne;
And I trust, your grace will doe me no deere,
For fpending of my owne true-gotten geere.

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