For me, when as I heard that Death Had snatch'd queen Anne to Elizabeth, I broke my reed, and, sighing, swore, I'd weep for Blouzelind no more.

While thus we stood as in a stound, And wet with tears, like dew, the ground, Full soon by bonfire and by bell

We learnt our liege was passing well.
A skilful leach (so God him speed)
They said, had wrought this blessed deed.
This leach Arbuthnot was yclept,
Who many a night not once had slept ;
But watch'd our gracious sovereign still;
For who could rest when she was ill?
Oh, may'st thou henceforth sweetly sleep!
Sheer, swains, oh! sheer your softest sheep,
To swell his couch; for, well I ween,
He sav'd the realm, who sav'd the queen.

Quoth I," Please God, I'll hye with glee To court, this Arbuthnot to see.

I sold my sheep, and lambkins too,
For silver loops and garment blue;
My boxen hautboy, sweet of sound,
For lace that edg'd mine hat around;
For Lightfoot, and my scrip, I got
A gorgeous sword, and eke a knot.

So forth I far'd to court with speed,
Of soldier's drum withouten dreed;
For peace allays the shepherd's fear
Of wearing cap of grenadier.

There saw I ladies all a-row, Before their queen in seemly show.

No more I'll sing Buxoma brown,
Like Goldfinch in her Sunday gown;
Nor Clumsilis, nor Marian bright,
Nor damsel that Hobnelia hight.
But Lansdowne, fresh as flower of May,
And Berkeley, lady blithe and gay ;
And Anglesea, whose speech exceeds
The voice of pipe, or oaten reeds;
And blooming Hyde, with eyes so rare;
And Montague beyond compare :
Such ladies fair would I depaint,

In roundelay or sonnet quaint.

There many a worthy wight I've seen, In ribbon blue and ribbon green : As Oxford, who a wand doth bear, Like Moses, in our Bibles fair; Who for our traffic forms designs, And gives to Britain Indian mines. Now, shepherds, clip your fleecy care; Ye maids, your spinning-wheels prepare; Ye weavers, all your shuttles throw, And bid broad-cloths and serges grow; For trading free shall thrive again, Nor leasings lewd affright the swain.

There saw I St. John, sweet of mien, Full steadfast both to church and queen; With whose fair name I'll deck my strain; St. John, right courteous to the swain. For thus he told me on a day, "Trim are thy sonnets, gentle Gay; And, certes, mirth it were to see Thy joyous madrigals twice three,

With preface meet, and notes profound,
Imprinted fair, and well ye-bound."
All suddenly then home I sped,
And did ev'n as my lord had said.

Lo, here thou hast mine eclogues fair,
But let not these detain thine ear.
Let not th' affairs of states and kings
Wait, while our Bouzybeus sings.
Rather than verse of simple swain
Should stay the trade of France or Spain;
Or, for the plaint of parson's maid,
Yon emperor's packets be delay'd;
In sooth, I swear by holy Paul,

I'll burn book, preface, notes, and all.

MONDAY; OR, THE SQUABBLE.

LOBBIN CLOUT, CUDDY, CLODDIPOLE.

LOBBIN CLOUT.

THY younglings, Cuddy, are but just awake,
No thrustles shrill the bramble-bush forsake,
No chirping lark the welkin sheen invokes,
No damsel yet the swelling udder strokes ;

Ver. 3. Welkin, the same as welken, an old Saxon word, signifying a cloud; by poetical licence it is frequently taken for the element, or sky, as may appear by this verse in the Dream of Chaucer

Ne in all the welkin was no cloud.

Sheen, or shine, an old word for shining, or bright.

O'er yonder hill does scant the dawn appear:
Then why does Cuddy leave his cot so rear?

CUDDY.

Ah Lobbin Clout! I ween, my plight is guest, For he that leaves, a stranger is to rest :

If swains belye not, thou hast prov'd the smart,
And Blouzelinda's mistress of thy heart.
This rising rear betokeneth well thy mind,
Those arms are folded for thy Blouzelind.
And well, I trow, our piteous plights agree :
Thee Blouzelinda smites, Buxoma me.

LOBBIN CLOUT.

10

Ah, Blouzelind! I love thee more by half, Than does their fawns, or cows the new-fall'n calf; Woe worth the tongue! may blisters sore it gall, That names Buxoma Blouzelind withal.

CUDDY.

Hold, witless Lobbin Clout, I thee advise,
Lest blisters sore on thy own tongue arise.
Lo, yonder, Cloddipole, the blithsome swain,
The wisest lout of all the neighbouring plain!
From Cloddipole we learnt to read the skies,
To know when hail will fall, or winds arise.

Ver. 5. Scant, used in the ancient British authors for scarce.

Ver. 6. Rear, an expression in several counties of England, for early in the morning.

Ver. 7. To ween, derived from the Saxon, to think, or conceive.

He taught us erst the heifer's tail to view,

When stuck aloft, that showers would straight ensue:
He first that useful secret did explain,

That pricking corns foretold the gathering rain.
When swallows fleet soar high and sport in air,
He told us that the welkin would be clear.
Let Cloddipole then hear us twain rehearse,
And praise his sweetheart in alternate verse.
I'll wager this same oaken staff with thee,
That Cloddipole shall give the prize to me.

LOBBIN CLOUT.

See this tobacco-pouch, that's lin'd with hair,
Made of the skin of sleekest fallow-deer.
This pouch, that's ty'd with tape of reddest hue,
I'll wager, that the prize shall be my due.

CUDDY.

Begin thy carols then, thou vaunting slouch! Be thine the oaken staff, or mine the pouch.

LOBBIN CLOUT.

My Blouzelinda is the blithest lass,
Than primrose sweeter, or the clover-grass.
Fair is the king-cup that in meadow blows,
Fair is the daisie that beside her grows;
Fair is the gilliflower, of gardens sweet,
Fair is the marygold, for pottage meet:

But Blouzelind's than gilliflower more fair,

Than daisie, marygold, or king-cup rare.

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Ver. 25. Erst; a contraction of ere this; it signifies sometime ago, or formerly.