another part of the MS. we find the spark here represented, who, very probably, is the serving-man described in the song. The chorus or burden is of vast antiquity, being a great favourite with the pot-companions of Edward the thirds time, as we learn from the Vision of Pierce Plowman:

"And than satten some and songe at the nale,

“And holpen erie his halfe acre wyth HEY TROLLY LOLLY." Thus too, in "the lytell propre jeste, called Cryste crosse me spede. a. b. c." printed by Wynken de Worde:

"To the ale they went with HEY TROLY LOLY."

(See Herberts Ames, 1019.)

In the Chester Whitsun plays (a MS. in the Museum) it said, Tunc cantabunt [pastores], and in the margin are these words, 66 Singe troly loly lo." But there may have been many songs with this burthen.

IV.

UPON THE INCONSTANCY OF HIS MISTRESS.

From a MS. of the early part of Henry the 8ths time. Bibl. Harl. No. 2252. Left unfinished by the copyist.

Nay, nay, no, no,

I wys not soo,

Leve of and do no more;

For veraylye

Som wemen ther be,

The whyche bethe brotyll store.

I lovyd on,

Not long agon,

On whom my harte was sett,

So dyd she me,

Whye shuld I lye?

I can hyt not forgette.

Hyr letters wyll prove

She was my love,

And so I wyll hyr clayme,

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And Mary mylde,

He ys a mynion man,

Myche propyr and good,
Commyn of jentyll blode,

And myche good pastyme he can.

He ys worthy

Myche better then I

To have the love of hyr,

Therfor, swete-harte,

Farwell my parte

Adew, somtyme my dere.

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V.

INVOCATION TO DEATH.

BY GEORGE VISCOUNT ROCHFORD.

The following poem, sir John Hawkins tells us, appears by the MS. from which it was taken, to have been composed about the time of Henry VIII. It and another, which he has printed, were communicated to him by "a very judicous antiquary lately deceased," whose opinion of them was, that they were written either by, or in the person of Anne Boleyn: a conjecture, he adds, which her unfortunate history renders very probable. It is, however, but a conjecture; any other state-prisoner of that period having an equal claim. George viscount Rochford, brother to the above lady, and who suffered on her account, "hath the fame," according to Phillips," of being the author of songs and sonnets," and to him the present editor is willing to refer the ensuing

stanzas.

O DEATH rocke me on slepe,
Bringe me on quiet reste,
Let passe my verye giltless goste,
Out of my carefull brest:
Toll on the passinge-bell,

Ringe out the dolefull knell,

Let the sounde my dethe tell,

For I must dye,

There is no remedy,
For now I dye.

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