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The ewes and the lambs

With the kids and their dams,
To see in the country how finely they play,

The bells they do ring,

And the birds they do sing, And the fields and the gardens so pleasant and gay.

O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree, - They flourish most bravely in our country.

At wakes and at fairs

Being void of all cares,
We there with our lovers did use for to dance,

Then hard hap had I,

My ill fortune to try,
And so up to London my steps to advance.

O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree, They flourish most bravely in our country.

Yet still I perceive

I a husband might have,
If I to the city, my mind could buț frame,

But I'll have a lad

That is north country bred,
Or else I'll not marry in the mind that I am.

O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree,
They flourish most bravely in our country.

A maiden I am,

And a maid I'll remain,
Untill my own country again I do see,

For here in this place

I shall n'er see the face
Of him, that's allotted my love for to be.

O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree,
They flourish at home in my own country.

Then farewell my daddy,

And farewell my mammy,
Untill I do see you I nothing but mourn,

Remembring my brothers,

My sisters and others, In less than a year I hope to return; Then the oak, and the ash, and the bonny ivy tree, I shall see them at home in my own country. .



[From the “ Handefull of Pleasant Delites,” 1584.]
To Calen o Custure me: sung at everie lines end."

HEN as I view your comely grace,
Your golden hairs, your angel face,

Your azured veins much like the skies, Your silver teeth, your christal eyes, Your coral lips, your crimson cheek, That Gods and men both love and leek.

Your pretty mouth with divers gifts, Which driveth wise men to their shifts, So brave, so fine, so trim, so young, With heavenly wit, and pleasant tongue, That Pallas though she she did excell, Could frame, ne tell a tale so well.

Your voice so sweet, your neck so white,
Your body fine, and small in sight :
Your fingers long so nimble be,
To utter forth such harmony,
As all the Muses for a space,
To sit and hear, do give you place.

Your pretty foot with all the rest
That may be seen, or may be guest :
Doth bear such shape, that beauty may
Give place to thee, and go


way; And Paris now must change his doom, For Venus, lo, must give thee room.

Whose gleams doth heat my heart as fier, Although I burn, yet would I nigher,

Within myself then can I say,
The night is gone, behold the day :
Behold the star so clear and bright,
As dims the sight of Phoebus light.

Whose fame by pen for to discrive,
Doth pass each wight that is alive:
Then how dare I with boldned face
Presume to crave, or wish your grace?
And thus amazed as I stand,
Not feeling sense, nor mooving hand,

My soul with silence-mooving sense,
Doth wish of God with reverence,
Long life and virtue you possess
To match those gifts of worthiness;
And love and pity may be spied
To be your chief and only guide,




> 2

Fain wold I have a pretie thing
To give unto my ladie.”

To the tune of—Lusty Gallant.

[From Robinson's " Handefull of Pleasant Delites," 1584.]

Fain would I have a pretty thing

To give unto my lady,
I name no thing, nor I mean no thing,

But as pretty a thing as may be.

Twenty journeys would I make,

And twenty ways would hie me, To make adventure for her sake

To set some matter by me.

Some do long for pretty knacks,

And some for strange devices, God send me that my lady lacks,

I care not what the price is.

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