It were myne efe, to lyve in pese; fo wyll I, yf I can; Wherfore I to the wode wyll go, alone, a banyshed man. B. Though in the wode. I undyrftode ye had a paramour, All this may nought remove my thought, but that I will be your: And the fhall fynde me foft, and kynde, and courteys. every hour; Glad to fulfyll all that fhe wyll commaunde me, to my power: For had ye, lo, an hundred mo, yet wolde I be that one; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. A. Myne own dere love, I fe the prove that ye be kynde, and true; Of mayde, and wyfe, in all my lyfe, the best that ever I knewe. Be mery and glad, be no more fad, the cafe is chaunged newe; For it were ruthe, that, for your truthe, ye fholde have caufe to rewe : Be nat difmayed; whatfoever I fayd to you, whan I began, I wyll not to the grene wode go, I am no banyshed man. B. Thefe B. Thefe tydings be more gladder to me than to be made a quene, Yf I were fure they fholde endure: but it is often fene, Whan men wyll breke promyfe, they fpeke the wordes on the fplene : Ye fhape fome wyle, me to begyle, and ftele from me, I wene : Than were the cafe worse than it was, and I more wo begone; For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone. B. Ye fhall nat nede further to drede; I will not dyfparage You, (God defende !) fyth you defcend of fo grete a lynage. Nowe understande, -to Weftmarlande, which is myne herytage, I wyll you bringe; and with a rynge, by way of ma ryage I wyll you take, and lady make, as fhortely as I can : Thus have ye won an erlys fon, and not a banyshed man. B. Here may ye fe, that women be, in love, meke, kynde, and ftable: Late never man reprove them than,. But, rather, pray God, that we may to them be com fortable, Which fometyme proved fuch as he loved, yf they be charytable. For Forfoth, men wolde that women holde be meke to them ech one; Moche more ought they to God obey, and serve but hym alone. HENRY AND EMMA. A POEM, Upon the Model of the NUT-BROWN MAID. TH Το CLO E. 1 HOU, to whose eyes I bend, at whose command (Though low my voice, though artless be my hand) I take the sprightly reed, and fing, and play ; Careless of what the cenfuring world may say: Bright Cloe, object of my constant vow, Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow? Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains, And with one heavenly smile o'erpay his pains? No longer fhall the Nut-brown Maid be old; Though fince her youth three hundred years have roll'd: At thy defire, the shall again be rais'd; And her reviving charms in lasting verfe be prais'd. No longer man of woman shall complain, That he may love, and not be lov❜d again : What Whatever has been writ, whatever faid, As Beauty's potent queen, with every grace My pains and hopes; and, when thou say'st that one Of all mankind thou lov'ft, oh! think on me alone. } :} WHERE beauteous Ifis and her husband Tame With mingled waves for ever flow the fame, In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd; Great gifts bestow'd, and great refpe&t receiv'd. When dreadful Edward with fuccefsful care Led his free Britons to the Gallic war; This lord had headed his appointed bands, The remnant of his days he fafely past; Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too fast. One child he had, a daughter chaste and fair, They call'd her Emma; for the beauteous dame, As with her ftature, ftill her charms increas'd; } From |