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Fain would I be,

In the north country,

Where the lads and the lasses are making of hay, There should I see

What is pleasant to me,

A mischief light on them entic'd me away!
O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree
Do flourish most bravely in our country.

Since that I came forth

Of the pleasant North,

There's nothing delightful I see doth abound,
They never can be

Half so merry as we,

When we are a dancing of Sellinger's round.
O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivy tree
Do flourish at home in our own country.

I like not the court,

Nor the city resort,

Since there is no fancy for such maids as me,
Their pomp and their pride;

I can never abide;

Because with my humour it doth not agree.

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

How oft have I been

On the Westmorland green,

Where the young men and maidens resort for to play,

Where we with delight

From morning till night,

Could feast it and frolick on each holyday.

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O the oak, the ash, and the bonny ivý tree,

Do flourish most bravely in our country.

A milking to go,

All the maids on a row,

It was a fine sight and pleasant to see,

But here in the city,

They are void of pity,
There is no enjoyment of liberty.

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

When I had the heart

From my friends to depart,

I thought I should be a lady at last:
But now do I find,

That it troubles my mind,

Because that my joys and pleasures are past.

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

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 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.

gay.

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 but 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.

XXVI.

A LOVER'S PRAISE OF HIS LADY.

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

WHEN 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 her 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,

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