THE WANDERING MAYDE, IN TWO PARTS. PART THE FIRST. T was by a baron's caftle gaye IT A wand'ring mayde dyd rove; For manye a myle had she tooke her waye, In fearche of her true love: For manye a myle, both day and nighte, Nor blefte the lighte that chear'd her syghte, Shee fat her downe by the moate foe wyde, "But altho' I fhed full manye a teare, "Yet ever I'll love thee, youth foe deare, "And for thee will I dye," And nowe oer the hie drawbridge came neare A minstrel blithe and gaye; "fweete mayden, her "And why,” hee cry'd, "For the welkin rounde is blacke with rayne, E'en hardye cattle, that graze the playne, "Alas!" fhee cry'd, "I've loft my love, "And I've foughte hym farre and neare: "Sweete minstrel, hafte thou feene hym rove, "The youthe whom I love fo deare? "Faire mayde, thy love howe shoulde I knowe "From other youths I fee? "Oh by hys lockes foe fayre that flowe, "And hys mien fo blighte of blee. "Hys face is fraughte with beautye's fmyle, "That broughte my heart to woc; Neare thefe hie tow'rs, foe fayre to view, "Alas! how harde that hearte, I weene, "But, lovely mayde, doe not thus rove, But the faithful mayde to hym was colde, "Noe, minstrel, tho' full fad I rue "And o'er the lone countrie, daye and nighte, "Nor bleffe the lighte that cheares mye fighte, "Till I have founde my love. And nowe cam forthe a foldier gaye, And hys broade sworde hee hath ta'en; "Oh may de, heede not that minstrel's guile, "But mee take for thy love; "And then to the wars, for golde and spoyle, Right merry lie wee will rove." "Noe, warrioure, noe; tho' fad I rove, "And ever I'll wander day and nighte, The foldier was fcant ygone, when lowe, And merrylie rode hee hie and lowe, All yclad in greene foe gaye: Shee flop'd the gallante on the greene, "And telle," fhee cry'd, 66 I praye, "'Mong yonder forreftes haft thou feene "My wand'ring true love straye? * And howe fhalle I knowe the youthe you seeke "From other youthes I fee? "Oh welle maye you knowe hymere hee doth fpeake, "Hys mien's fo brighte of blee." "Sweete mayden, tho' 'monge the foreftes greene "With earlye horne I rove, Believe mee, deare may de, I have not feene “The faithleffe youthe you love. "Nowe, charming mayde, doe not thus rove, "Nor wander thus forlorne; But goe with mee, and ever I'll love, "And shelter thee from fcorne: "And we will hunte with earlye horne, “And fing the livelong daye; "And the chearful eve, and the smiling morne, "Shall ever fynde us gaye. "And thou, attir'd in robes of greene, "A huntress blithe and gaye, Shall aye bee call'd, wher'ere thou'rt seene, "The sporting queene of Maye. Come, turne thee, mayde, and bee my love, "And to my paffion yeilde; And ever delighted will wee rove, "The princes of the fielde." M |