It were myne efe, to lyve in pese; so wyll I, yf I can; Wherfore I to the wode wyll go, alone, a banyshed

man.

B.

Though in the wode I undyrstode ye had a paramour, All this may nought remove my thought, but that I will be your :

And she shall fynde me foft, and kynde, and courteys every hour;

Glad to fulfyll all that she wyll commaunde me, to my

power:

For had ye, lo, an hundred mo, yet wolde I be that

one;

For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you

alone.

A.

Myne own dere love, I se the prove that ye be kynde, and true;

Of mayde, and wyfe, in all my lyfe, the best that ever I knewe.

Be mery and glad, be no more sad, the cafe is chaunged

newe;

For it were ruthe, that, for your truthe, ye sholde have cause to rewe:

Be nat difmayed; whatsoever I fayd to you, whan I began,

I wyll not to the grene wode go, I am no banyshed

B.

These tydings be more gladder to me than to be made a

quene,

If I were fure they sholde endure: but it is often fene, Whan men wyll breke promyfe, they speke the wordes

on the fplene :

Ye shape some wyle, me to begyle, and stele from me, I wene:

Than were the cafe worse than it was, and I more wobegone;

For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone..

B..

Ye shall nat nede further to drede; I will not dysparage You, (God defende!) syth you defcend of fo grete: a.

lynage.

Nowe understande, - to Westmarlande, which is myne herytage,

I wyll you bringe; and with a rynge, by way of ma-ryage

I wyll you take, and lady make, as shortely as I can : Thus have ye won an erlys fon, and not a banyshed

man.

B.

Here may ye fe, that women be, in love, meke, kynde,

and stable:

Late never man reprove them than,

...

But, rather, pray God, that we may to them be com

fortable,

Which sometyme proved such as he loved, yf they be

charytable.

For

Forsoth, men wolde that women sholde be meke to them ech one;

Moche more ought they to God obey, and serve but hym alone.

HENRY AND EMMA.

A

POEM,

'Upon the Model of the NUT-BROWN MAID.

To CLOE.

THOU, to whose eyes I bend, at whose command (Though low my voice, though artless be my hand)

I take the sprightly reed, and fing, and play;
Careless of what the cenfuring world may fay:
Bright Cloe, object of my conftant vow,
Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's ftrains,
And with one heavenly smile o'erpay his pains?
No longer shall the Nut-brown Maid be old;
Though fince her youth three hundred years have roll'd:
At thy defire, she shall again be rais'd;
And her reviving charms in lasting verse be prais'd.
No longer man of woman shall complain,
That he may love, and not be lov'd again:
That we in vain the fickle sex pursue,
Who change the constant lover for the new.

What

Whatever has been writ, whatever faid,
Of female paffion feign'd, or faith decay'd :
Henceforth shall in my verse refuted stand,
Be faid to winds, or writ upon the fand.
And, while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love and ever-during flame;
O fairest of the fex! be thou my Muse :
Deign on my work thy influence to diffuse.
Let me partake the blessings I rehearse,
And grant me, Love, the just reward of verse!
As Beauty's potent queen, with every grace
That once was Emma's, has adorn'd thy face;
And as her fon has to my bosom dealt
That constant flame, which faithful Henry felt;
O let the story with thy life agree:
Let men once more the bright example fee;
What Emma was to him, be thou to me.
Nor fend me by thy frown from her I love,
Distant and fad, a banish'd man to rove.
But oh! with pity long-intreated crown
My pains and hopes; and, when thou say'st that
Of all mankind thou lov'st, oh! think on me alone.

one

WHERE beauteous Isis and her husband Tame With mingled waves for ever flow the fame, In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd; Great gifts bestow'd, and great refpect receiv'd. When dreadful Edward with fuccefsful care Led his free Britons to the Gallic war;

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:

This lord had headed his appointed bands,
In firm allegiance to his king's commands;
And (all due honours faithfully difcharg'd)
Had brought back his paternal coat enlarg'd
With a new mark, the witness of his toil,
And no inglorious part of foreign spoil.

From the loud camp retir'd and noisy court,
In honourable eafe and rural sport,
The remnant of his days he fafely paft;
Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too faft.
He made his wish with his estate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.

One child he had, a daughter chaste and fair,
His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir.
They call'd her Emma; for the beauteous dame,
Who gave the Virgin birth, had borne the name:
The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd;
For in the child the mother's charms improv'd.
Yet as, when little round his knees she play'd,
He call'd her oft' in sport his Nut-brown Maid,
The friends and tenants took the fondling word
(As still they please, who imitate their lord);
Ufage confirm'd what fancy had begun ;
The mutual terms around the lands were known;
And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one.
As with her ftature, still her charms increas'd;
Through all the ifle her beauty was confefs'd.
Oh! what perfections must that Virgin share,
Who fairest is esteem'd, where all are fair!

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