XII.

"A PROPER NEW SONG MADE BY A STUDENT IN CAMBRIDGE."

From the "Handefull of Pleasant Delites, 1584."

I

To the tune of,-I wish to see those happy days.

WHO was once a happy wight,

And high in fortune's grace :

And who did spend my golden prime
In running pleasure's race,

Am now enforst of late

Contrariwise to mourn,

Since Fortune joys into annoys
My former state to turn.

The toiling ox, the horse, the ass,
Have time to take their rest,

Yea, all things else which nature wrought,

Sometimes have joys in breast:

Save only I and such

Who vexed are with pain;

For still in tears my life it wears,
And so I must remain.

How oft have I in folded arms
Enjoyed my delight,
How oft have I excuses made,
Of her to have a sight!

But now to fortune's will

I caused am to bow,

And for to reap a hugie heap,

Which youthfull years did sow.

Wherefore, all ye which do as yet

Remain, and bide behind,

Whose eyes Dame Beauty's blazing beams,

As yet

did never bind:

Example let me be

To you and other more;

Whose heavy heart hath felt the smart
Subdued by Cupid's lore.

Take heed of gazing over much
On damsels fair unknown;
For oftentimes the snake doth lie
With roses overgrown :`

And under fairest flowers

Do noisome adders lurk,

Of whom take heed, I thee areed,
Least that thy cares they work.

What though that she doth smile on thee, Perchance she doth not love,

And though she smack thee once or twice, She thinks thee so to prove,

And when that thou dost think

She loveth none but thee,

She hath in store perhaps some more,
Which so deceived be.

Trust not therefore the outward shew,
Beware in any case:

For good conditions do not lie

Where is a pleasant face:

But if it be thy chance,

A lover true to have,

Be sure of this, thou shalt not miss
Each thing that thou wilt crave.

And when as thou (good reader) shalt
Peruse this scroll of mine,
Let this a warning be to thee,
And say a friend of thine

Did write thee this of love,

And of a zealous mind,

Because that he sufficiently

Hath tried the femal

Here Cambridge now I bid farewell,

Adieu to students all; Adieu unto the colleges,

And unto Gunvil-hall:

And you my fellows once,

Pray unto Jove that I

May have relief for this my grief,
And speedy remedy:

And that he shield you everichone
From beauty's luring looks,
Whose bait hath brought me to my bain,
And caught me from my books:
Wherefore for you my prayer shall be,

To send you better grace,

That modesty with honesty

May guide your youthful race.

[Finis quod Thomas Richardson, sometime Student in Cambridge.]

XIII.

ADDRESS TO A DISAPPOINTED LOVER, WEARING A WILLOW BRANCH.

[From "the Muses Gardin for Delights," by Robert Jones, 1610.]

I AM

AM so farre from pittying thee,

That wear'st a branch of willow tree,

That I do envie thee and all,

That once were high and got a fall:
O willow, willow, willo tree,

I would thou didst belong to mee.

Thy wearing willow doth imply,
That thou art happier farre then I,

For once thou wert where thou wouldst be,
Though now thou wear'st the willow tree:
O willow, willow, sweete willow,
Let me once lie upon her pillow.

I doe defie both boughe and roote,
And all the fiends of hell to boote
One houre of paradised joye,
Makes purgatorie seeme a toye :
O willow, willow, doe thy worst,

Thou canst not make me more accurst.