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VI.

A DYTTIE TO HEY DOWNE.

Copied from an old MS. in the Cotton Library, [Vefp. A. 25.] intitled, "Divers things of Hen. viij's time."

W

HO fekes to tame the bluftering winde,

Or caufse the floods bend to his wyll,

Or els against dame natures kinde

To change things frame by cunning skyll: That man I thinke bestoweth paine,

Thoughe that his laboure be in vaine.

Who ftrives to breake the fturdye fteele,
Or goeth about to ftaye the funne;
Who thinks to caufse an oke to reele,

Which never can by force be done :
That man likewife beftoweth paine,
Thoughe that his laboure be in vaine.

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10

Who thinks to ftryve against the streame,
And for to fayle without a maste;
Unlesse he thinks perhapps to faine,

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His travell ys forelorne and wafte;

And fo in cure of all his paine,
His travell ys his cheffeft gaine.

Ver. 4 cauffe. MS.

So

So he lykewife, that goes about

To please eche eye and every eare,
Had nede to have withouten doubt

A golden gyft with hym to beare;
For evyll report shall be his gaine,
Though he bestowe both toyle and paine.

God grant eche man one to amend;

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An ingenious Friend thinks that the following old Dity (which is given from the Editor's MS. Collection) may poffibly have given birth to the Tragedy of the ORPHAN, in which Polidore intercepts Monimia's intended favours to Caftalio.

GLafgerion was a kinges owne fonne,

And a harper he was goode :

He harped in the kinges chambere,
Where cuppe and caudle ftoode.

And

And foe did he in the queenes chambere,
Till ladyes waxed glad.
And then befpake the kinges daughter;
These were the wordes she fayd.

Strike on, firike on, Glasgèrion,

Of thy ftriking doe not blinne:

Theres never a ftroke comes oer thy harpe,
But it glads my harte withinne.

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Faire might he fall, ladye, quoth hee,

Who taught you nowe to speake!

I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yearę
My minde I never durft breake.

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But come to my bower, my Glasgeriòn,
When all men are att reft:

As I am a ladye true of my promise,
Thou shalt bee a welcome gueft.

Home then came Glasgèrion,

A glad man, lord! was hee.

And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy;
Come hither unto mee.

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And att her chambere must I bee
Beffore the cocke have crowen.

O mafter, mafter, then quoth hee,
Lay your head heere on this stone:
For I will waken you, mafter deare,
Afore it be time to gone.

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But up then rose that lither ladd,

And hofe and fhoone did on:

A coller he caft upon his necke,

He feemed a gentleman.

And when he came to the ladyes chambere,

He thrilled upon a pinn.

The lady was true of her promise,

And rofe and lett him in.

He did not take the lady gaye

To boulter nor to bed:

'Nor thoughe hee had his wicked wille,

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But home then came that lither ladd,

And did off his hose and fhoone; And caft the coller from off his necke: He was but a churlès fonne.

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Awake, awake, my deere master,
The cock hath well-nigh crowen.
Awake, awake, my mafter deere,

I hold it time to be gone.

For I have faddled your horse, mastèr,
Well bridled I have your fteede :

And I have served you a good breakfast :
For thereof ye have need.

Up then rofe, good Glasgeriòn,
And did on hose and fhoone;
And caft a coller about his necke:
For he was a kinge his fonne.

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60

And when he came to the ladyes chambere, 65

He thrilled upon the pinne :

The ladye was more than true of promise,

And rofe and let him inn.

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