And winking Mary-buds begin,
To ope their golden eyes;

With every thing that pretty bin :'
"My lady sweet, arise!"

XV.

THE MOTHERS LULLABY.

From a MS. of James the Ists time. Bibl. Sloan. 1708.

My little sweete derlinge, my comforte and joye,

Singe lullyby, lully,

In bewtie excellinge the princes of Troye,
Singe lullaby, lully.

Nowe, sucke, childe, and sleepe, child, thy mothers sweete boye,

The gods blesse and keepe thee from cruell annoy,
Thy father, sweete infant, from mother ys gone,
And shee, in the woodes heere, with thee lefte alone.

To thee, little infant, why do I make mone,

Singe lully, lully,

Sith thou canst not helpe mee to sighe nor to grone, Singe lully, lully, lully,

Sweete baby, lullyby, sweete baby, lully, lully.

XVI.

THE GARLAND.

BY BEAUMONT OR FLETCHER.

This elegant little piece is found in "The Maids Tragedy," by Beaumont and Fletcher, first printed in 1619, where it is sung by Aspatia, being introduced by a short dialogue between her and Evadne.

LAY a garland on my hearse
Of the dismal yew;

Maidens, willow branches bear;
Say, I died true.

My love was false, but I was firm

From my hour of birth:
Upon my bury'd body lie
Lightly, gentle earth!

XVII.

THE JOVIAL TINKER.

"Dispersed through Shakespeare's plays are innumerable little fragments of ancient ballads, the entire copies of which could not be recovered. Many of these being of the most beautiful and pathetic simplicity, the editor was tempted to select some of them, and with a few supplemental stanzas to connect them together, and

form them into a little TALE, which is here submitted to the readers candour.

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'Two or three' small fragments' were taken from Beaumont and Fletcher."

It was a jovial tinker,

All of the north countriè,

As he walk'd forth, along the way,
He sung right merrily.

"The ousel-cock, so black of hue,
With orange-tawny bill,

The throstle with his note so true,
The wren with little quill;

The finch, the sparrow, and the lark,

The plain-song cuckow grey,

Whose note full many a man doth mark,
And dares not answer, Nay."

"Now, Christ thee save, thou jolly tinker,
Now Christ thee save and see;

My true love hast thou chanc'd to meet,
I pray thee, tell to me."

"And how should I know your true love,

From another one?"

'O, by his slouched hat and staff,

And by his clouted shoone;

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But, chiefly, by his comely nose,

That is so fair to see:

My bonny sweet Robin is all my joy,
And ever more shall be."

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O, lady, your true love is false,
Lady, he is untrue;

For he has got him another love,
And quite forsaken you.

He set her on a milk-white steed

And his self upon a grey; He never turn'd his face again, But bore her quite away."

"And will he not come again?

And will he not come again?"

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"No, no, he is gone, and we'll cast away moan, For he never will come again.

But, shall we go mourn for that, my dear?

The pale moon shines by night:

And, when we wander here and there,

We then do go most right.

If tinkers may have leave to live,
And bear the sow-skin budget,
Then my account I well may give,

And in the stocks avouch it.

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Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way,
And merrily hent the stile-a;
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.

For, I the ballad will repeat,

Which men full true shall find;

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Your marriage comes by destiny,

Your cuckow sings by kind."

"O heart! o heart! o heavy heart!
Why sigh'st thou without breaking?
Because thou canst not ease thy smart,
By friendship, nor by speaking?"

With that she sighed as she stood,
And gave this sentence then,
Among nine bad, if one be good,

There's yet one good in ten.

Lady, what wilt thou do, lady?
Lady, what would'st thou be?

Tell me thy mind, thy friend I'll prove,
As, quickly, thou shalt see."

"I would not be a serving man,
To carry the cloak-bag still;
Nor would I be a falconer,
The greedy hawks to fill.

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