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, Which never can by force be done : 5 10 Who thinks to ftryve against the streame, 15 His travell ys forelorne and wafte; And fo in cure of all his paine, Ver. 4 cauffe. MS. So So he lykewife, that goes about To please eche eye and every eare, A golden gyft with hym to beare; God grant eche man one to amend; 20 25 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, And And foe did he in the queenes chambere, Strike on, firike on, Glasgèrion, Of thy ftriking doe not blinne: Theres never a ftroke comes oer thy harpe, Faire might he fall, ladye, quoth hee, Who taught you nowe to speake! I have loved you, ladye, seven longe yearę 15 But come to my bower, my Glasgeriòn, As I am a ladye true of my promise, Home then came Glasgèrion, A glad man, lord! was hee. And, come thou hither, Jacke my boy; 20 And att her chambere must I bee O mafter, mafter, then quoth hee, 30 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, 35 40 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. 50 Awake, awake, my deere master, I hold it time to be gone. For I have faddled your horse, mastèr, And I have served you a good breakfast : Up then rofe, good Glasgeriòn, 55 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. |