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65

Come, Blouzelinda, ease thy swain's desire,
My summer's shadow and my winter's fire !

CU D Dr.
As with Buxoma once I work'd at hay,
E'en noon-tide labour seem'd an holiday ;
And holidays, if haply she were gone,
Like worky-days I wish would soon be done.
Eftfoon, O sweet-heart kind, my love repay,
And all the year shall then be holiday.

LOBBIN CLOU T.
As Blouzelinda in a gamesome mood,
Behind a haycock loudly laughing stood,
I lily ran, and snatch'd a hafty kiss,
She wip'd her lips, nor took it much amiss.
Believe me, Cuddy, while I'm bold to say,
Her Breath was sweeter than the ripen’d hay.

CU D Dr.
As my Buxoma in a morning fair,
With gentle finger ftroak'd her milky care,

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69. Eftsoons from eft an ancient British word fignifying soone

So obar eftfoons is a doubling of the word Toon, which is, as it were, to say twice foon, or very soon.

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I queintly stole a kiss; at first, 'tis true
She frown'd, yet after granted one or two.
Lobin, I swear, believe who will my vows,
Her breath by far excell’d the breathing cows.

LO BI N CLOU T.
Leek to the Welch, to Dutchmen butter's dear,
Of Irish Swains potatoe is the chear ;
Oats for their feasts, the Scotish shepherds grind,
Sweet turnips are the food of Blouzelind,
While she loves turnips, butter I'll despise,
Nor leeks nor oatmeal, nor potatoe prize.

CUDDr.
In good roft-beef my landlord sticks his knife,
The capon fat delights his dainty wife,
Pudding our Parson eats, the Squire loves hare,
But white-pot thick is my Buxoma's fare.

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79. Queine bas various fignifications to ebe ancient English

autbors. I bave used it in rbis place in tbe same fense, as Chaucer barb done in bis Miller's Tale. As Clerkes been full subtile and queint, (by wbicb be means arch or waggish) and not in that obscene sense wberein be wserb it in tbe line immediately following.

83. Populus Alcide gratiffima, vitis Iaccbo,

Formosa Myrtus Veneri, sua Laurea Pbaeba.
Phyllis amat Corylós. Illas dum Phillis amabit,
Nec Myrtus vincet Corylos nec Laurea Pbæbi, &c.

Virg.

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100

While she loves white-pot, capon ne'er shall be,
Nor hare, nor beef, nor pudding, food for me.

LO B B INCLOU T.
As once I play'd at Blindman's-Buff, it hapt
About my eyes the towel thick was wrapt.
I miss'd the fwains, and seiz'd on Blouzelind.

True speaks that ancient proverb, Love is blind. 1

CUD Dr.
As at Hot-cockles once I laid me down,
And felt the weighty hand of many a Clown ;
Buxoma gave a gentle tap, and I
Quick rose, and read soft mischief in her eye.

LO B B IN CLOU T.
On two near Elms, the Nacken'd cord I hung,
Now high, now low my Bleuzelinda swung.
With the rude wind her rumpled garment rose, 105
And show'd her taper leg, and scarlet hose.

CU D Dr.
Across the fallen oak the plank I laid,
· And my self pois’d against the tott'ring maid,

High leapt the plank ; adown Buxoma fell ;
I spy'd but faithful sweethearts never tell,

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LOBBINCLOU T.
This riddle, Cuddy, if thou canst explain,
This wily riddle puzzles ev'ry swain.
+ What Flower is that which bears the Virgin's name,
The richest metal joined with the same ?

CU D Dr.
Answer, thou Carle, and judge this riddle right, 115
I'll frankly own thee for a cunning Wight.
* What Flower is that which royal honour craves ?
Adjoin the Virgin, and'tis frown on graves.

CLODDIPOL E.
Forbear contending louts, give o'er your strains,
An oaken staff each merits for his pains,
But see the sun-beams bright to labour warn,
And gild the thatch of goodman Hodges' barn.
Your herds for want of water stand adry,
They're weary of your songs and so am I.

120

* Rosemary.

+ Marygold 117. Dic quibus in terris infcripti nomina Regum

Nafcantur flores. 320. Ei virula tu dignus & bic,

| Virg.

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MARIA N.
OUNG Colin Clour, a lad of peerless meed,

Full well could dance, and deftly tune
Y

the reed ;
In ev'ry wood his carrols sweet were

known,
At ev'ry wake his nimble feats were shown.
When in the ring the rustick routs he threw, 5
The damsels pleasures with his conquests grew;
Or when allant the cudgel threats his head,
His danger smites the breast of ev'ry maid,
But chief of Marian. Marian lov’d the swain,
The Parson's maid, and neatest of the plain.
Marian that soft could stroke the udder'd cow,
Or leffen with her fieve the barley mow;

Marbled

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