GOOD ALE.

"It is

The comedy of "Gammer Gurton's Needle," in which this song appears, was first acted in 1566, but not printed until 1575. believed to have been," says Mr. Ellis, in his Specimens of Ancient English Poetry,' "the earliest English drama that exhibited any approaches to regular comedy." "The music," says Ritson, was set four parts in one, by Mr. Walker, before the year 1600."

66

By John Still, Bishop of Bath and Wells, who died in 1607.

CANNOT eat but little meat,

My stomach is not good;

But sure, I think that I can drink
With any that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,

I am nothing a-cold;

I stuff my skin so full within

Of jolly good ale and old.

Back and side go bare, go bare,—

Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;

A little bread shall do me stead,—
Much bread I don't desire.

No frost, no snow, no wind I trow
Can hurt me if I wold;

I am so wrapt and thoroughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,-
Both foot and hand go cold ;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.

And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she till you may see

The tears run down her cheek;
Then doth she troul to me the bowl,

Even as a maltworm should,
And saith, "Sweetheart, I take my part

Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,—

Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.

Now let them drink till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss

Good ale doth bring men to;

And all poor souls that have scour'd bowls, Or have them lustily troul'd,

God save the lives of them and their wives, Whether they be young or old.

Back and side go bare, go bare,

Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old.

FAIR ROSAMOND.

By Thomas Deloney, a celebrated ballad maker, who died about the year 1600. Reprinted from the "Crown Garland of Golden Roses."

HEN as King Henrie rul'd this land,

The Second of that name,

Beside the Queene, he dearly loved

A faire and princely dame.

Most peerelesse was her beautie found,
Her favour, and her face;

A sweeter creature in this world

Did never prince imbrace.

Her crisped locks like threades of gold
Appeared to each mans sight;
Her comely eyes, like orient pearles,
Did cast a heavenly light.

The blood within her cristall cheekes
Did such a cullour drive,

As though the lilly and the rose
For maistership did strive.

Yea Rosamond, fair Rosamond,

Her name was called so,
To whome dame Elinor our queene,
Was knowne a cruell foe.

The king therefore, for her defence
Against the furious queene,

At Woodstocke buylded such a bower,
The like was never seene.

Most curiously that bower was buylt,
Of stone and timber strong;
A hundred and fiftie doores

Did to that bower belong :
And they so cunningly contriv'd,
With turning round about,

That none but by a clew of thread

Could enter in or out.

And for his love and ladyes sake,
That was so fair and bright,
The keeping of this bower he gave
Unto a valiant knight.

But fortune, that doth often frowne
Where she before did smile,
The kinges delight, the ladyes joy
Full soone she did beguile.

For why, the kings ungracious sonne,
Whom he did high advance,
Against his father raised warres
Within the realme of France.
But yet before our comely king
The English land forsooke,
Of Rosamond, his ladye faire,
His farewell thus he tooke:

"My Rosamond, my onely Rose,
That pleaseth best mine eye,
The fairest Rose in all the world
To feed my fantasie,-
The flower of my affected heart,
Whose sweetness doth excell,
My royall Rose, a hundred times
I bid thee now farewell!