"Wae worth the daye! That verie wreathe,

"Which with a lovinge vowe

"This morne I gave her, I behelde, "Ere noone, on Edwin's brow.

"When as thee tooke it fweete fhee fmil'd, "Yet could fhee from it parte ?

"Sae proude, methought, hee taunted mee, "Fu' deepe it irk'd my hearte.

"And irk'd be ftille this cruel hearte! "Oh! had yee feene the wounde, "And had yee feene the ftreaminge blude, "How fafte it ftain'd the grounde!

"And had yee feene her fickninge eye, "How fore it foughte reliefe!

"And had yee feene her bodie finke,
"You woulde have dyed for griefe!

"And irk'd be flille this cruel hearte,
"When as shee there did lye,
"That coulde not with my Lucie deere
"A moment staye, and dye!”

Alleyne, my friend, yee grieve my foule,
Your flighte, I weene, was just,

Sine fhee is gone, that fairest faire,
And funken into dufte.

But who alonge yon cypreffe-pathe

Is ledde fae heavilie?

Ah! mee! my Alleyne deere, it is-
How fadde fhee eyeth thee!

And, ah! how fadde yon virgins looke,
Who leade her to my boure?
Appear they not as drizlinge dewes,
Freshninge fome faded floure?

With fuche a looke as mothers aft
Rebuke a darlinge childe,
Sae eyed fhee her Alleyne deere,
Sae ruthe, fae fweete, fae milde!

"I marvelle not," fhee faintlie cried,
"Yee feeme a manne of flone!-
"The welle of life is nae yet drie,
66 My daies are nae yet done.

"Sette, fette your troubled minde at ease,
66 My hearte yee didde nae touche;
"Yee ftrooke too fhorte to reache my life,
"Whercat I gladdene muche.

"Could yee, fuch-vowes as I have vow'd, "Deeme I could faithlelle bee?

"The bloffome to the breathe of springe "Was fcant fae true as mee.

That wreathe, which yee this morne did fee "Sae trimme on Edwyn's browe, "Edwyn's ain fpitefu' hande had wroughte, "And Edwin weares it nowe.

"When love yée breathe, yee fickle menne "Been fmoothe as fummer-wave; "But when with jealoufie yee fwelle, "As winter-ftorme yee rave.

"Rafhe manne! ah! how by jealoufic
"Have yee your fortunes crofte!
"As true a maide as ever lov'd
"Yee have for ever lofte.

"To hie to this your friend's abode,
"Here breathe my prayres for yee,
For life, for healthe, for ease of minde,
"Was a' was left for mce."

Can yee not pardon the high faulte
Which love didde gar mee doe?
"Yes, I canne pardon a' the faulte,
"And ftille to love be true."

And fhalle the bridal-knotte be tyed,
And fhalle wee happie bee?

"The brydal-knotte canne ne'er be tyed,
"Ne canne I ftaye with thee;

"For I to Chrifte a vowe have made,

"And kepte that vowe fhalle bee,

"That manne nae mair fhalle vexe my hearte, "Nae mair fhalle trouble mee.

"That ftraite I wille myfel betake "Unto a nunnerie,

"In faste and prayre to ende my dayes "And kepte that vowe fhalle bee.

"Go yee, and feeke a fairer bride, "And live in pleafaunce gaye, "While to the houfe of godlineffe "I take myfel awaye.”

Naye, doe nae wende yee quite awaye,
Life, lifte, my piercinge ca'!
Returne! and for youre broken vowe,
On mee the paine be a!

"She's gane."-He heav'd a deepe-drawne figh,
As braft his hearte in twaine,
Sine to the ground fast-falled he,

And never rofe againe.

S 2

THE OLD AND YOUNG COURTIER.

A

N old fong made by an aged old pate,

Ofan old worshipful gentleman, who had a greate
eflate,

That kept a brave old houfe at a bountiful rate,
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate;
Like an old courtier of the queen's,

And the queen's old courtier.

With an old lady, whofe anger one word affwages; Hee every quarter paid his old fervants their wages, And never knew what belong'd to coachmen, footmen, nor pages,

But kept twenty old fellows with blue coats and badges; Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old fludy fill'd full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by his looks,

With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen, that maintain'd half a dozen old cooks;

Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old hall, hung about with pikes, guns, and

bows,

With old fwords, and bucklers, that had borne many fhrewd blows,