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diff --git a/old/67167-0.txt b/old/67167-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1d91673..0000000 --- a/old/67167-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1602 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Old Songs, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Old Songs - -Author: Various - -Illustrators: Alfred Parsons - Edwin Austin Abbey - -Contributors: George Wither - Edmond Spenser - -Release Date: January 15, 2022 [eBook #67167] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images - available at The Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD SONGS *** - - - - - - OLD SONGS - - [Illustration] - - - - - OLD SONGS - - WITH DRAWINGS BY - EDWIN A · ABBEY - & ALFRED PARSONS - - NEW YORK · HARPER & BROTHERS · PRINTERS & - PUBLISHERS · FRANKLIN SQUARE · M DCCC LXXXIX - - _COPYRIGHT, 1888, BY_ - - _HARPER & BROTHERS_. - - _All Rights Reserved._ - - - - -[Illustration: Contents] - - - _PAGE_ - -_A Love Song_ _1_ - -“_Why canst Thou not, as Others do_” _15_ - -“_With Jockey to the Fair_” _19_ - -“_Sweet Nelly, my Heart’s Delight_” _27_ - -“_What hap had I to Marry a Shrow_” _33_ - -_The Leather Bottèl_ _37_ - -_Never Love Thee More_ _49_ - -“_Here’s to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen_” _53_ - -_Barbara Allen_ _57_ - -_Perigot and Cuddy’s Roundelay_ _67_ - -_Sally in Our Alley_ _73_ - -“_Early One Morning_” _85_ - -_Kitty of Coleraine_ _89_ - -_Old King Cole_ _97_ - -_Harvest Home_ _101_ - -_Down in Cupid’s Garden_ _107_ - -_Phillada Flouts Me_ _111_ - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: A LOVE SONG] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - -_A LOVE SONG._ - -BY GEORGE WITHER. - - - I lov’d a lasse, a faire one, - As faire as e’er was seene; - She was, indeed, a rare one, - Another Sheba queen; - - But, foole, as then I was, - I thought she lov’d me too; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - Her haire, like gold, did glister; - Each eye was like a starre; - She did surpasse her sister, - Which past all others farre: - -[Illustration] - - She would me hony call: - She’d, oh, she’d kisse me too! - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - -[Illustration] - - In summer-time, to Medley - My love and I would goe-- - The boatmen there stood readie - My love and I to rowe; - For creame there would we call, - For cakes, and for prunes too; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - -[Illustration] - - Many a merry meeting - My love and I have had: - She was my onely sweeting; - She made my heart full glad: - The teares stood in her eyes, - Like to the morning-dew; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - And as abroad we walked, - As lovers’ fashion is, - Oft, as we sweetly talked, - The sun would steale a kisse; - The winde upon her lips - Likewise most sweetly blew; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - Her cheekes were like the cherrie, - Her skin as white as snow; - When she was blyth and merrie, - She angel-like did show; - Her wast exceeding small, - The fives did fit her shoo; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - In summer-time or winter - She had her heart’s desire; - I stil did scorne to stint her - From sugar, sacke, or fire: - The world went round about; - No cares we ever knew; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - -[Illustration] - - As we walked home together, - At midnight, through the towne, - To keepe away the weather, - O’re her I’d cast my gowne; - No colde my love should feele, - Whate’er the heavens could doe; - But, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - -[Illustration] - - Like doves we would be billing, - And clip and kisse so fast, - Yet she would be unwilling - That I should kisse the last: - They’re Judas kisses now, - Since that they prov’d untrue; - For, now, alasse! sh’as left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - -[Illustration] - - To maidens’ vowes and swearing - Henceforth no credit give; - You may give them the hearing, - But never them beleeve: - They are as false as faire, - Unconstant, fraile, untrue; - For mine, alasse! hath left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - ’Twas I that paid for all things, - ’Twas others dranke the wine; - I cannot now recall things, - Live but a foole to pine: - ’Twas I that beat the bush, - The bird to others flew; - For she, alasse! hath left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - If ever that Dame Nature, - For this false lover’s sake, - Another pleasing creature - Like unto her would make, - Let her remember this, - To make the other true; - For this, alasse! hath left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - - No riches, now, can raise me, - No want make me despaire, - No miserie amaze me, - Nor yet for want I care: - -[Illustration] - - I have lost a world it selfe. - My earthly heaven, adue! - Since she, alasse! hath left me, - _Falero, lero, loo_. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: “Why canst Thou not as Others do”] - - - - -“_WHY CANST THOU NOT, AS OTHERS DO?_” - - - Why canst thou not, as others do, - Look on me with unwounding eyes? - And yet look sweet, but yet not so, - Smile, but not in killing wise; - Arm not thy graces to confound; - Only look, but do not wound. - - Why should mine eyes see more in you - Than they can see in all the rest? - For I can others’ beauties view, - And not find my heart opprest. - O be as others are to me, - Or let me be more to thee. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: “_With Jockey to the Fair_”] - - - - -“_WITH JOCKEY TO THE FAIR._” - - - Twas on the morn of sweet May-day, - When nature painted all things gay-- - Taught birds to sing and lambs to play - And deck’d the meadows fair-- - Young Jockey early in the morn - Arose and tripped it o’er the lawn. - His Sunday coat the youth put on; - For Jenny had vowed away to run - With Jockey to the fair. - - The cheerful parish bells had rung. - With eager steps he trudg’d along; - Sweet flowing garlands round him hung, - Which shepherds us’d to wear. - He tapp’d the window. “Hush, my dear!” - Jenny, impatient, cried, “Who’s there?” - “’Tis I, my love, and no one near. - Step gently down, you’ve naught to fear - With Jockey to the fair.” - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - “My dad and mammy ’re fast asleep. - My brother up and with the sheep. - And will you still your promise keep, - Which I have heard you swear? - And will you ever constant prove?” - “I will, by all the pow’rs above! - And ne’er deceive my charming dove. - Dispel those doubts, and haste, my love, - With Jockey to the fair.” - - “Behold the ring!” the shepherd cried. - “Will Jenny be my charming bride? - Let Cupid be our happy guide, - And Hymen meet us there.” - Then Jockey did his vows renew-- - He would be constant, would be true. - His word was pledged, away she flew, - With cowslips sparkling with the dew, - With Jockey to the fair. - - Soon did they meet a joyful throng. - Their gay companions, blithe and young, - Each joins the dance, each joins the song - To hail the happy pair. - What two were e’er so fond as they? - All bless the kind propitious day-- - The smiling morn, the blooming May, - When lovely Jenny ran away - With Jockey to the fair. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: “_Sweet Nelly my Heart’s Delight._”] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - -“_SWEET NELLY, MY HEART’S DELIGHT._” - - - HE. Sweet Nelly, my heart’s delight, - Be loving, and do not slight - The proffer I make - For modesty’s sake. - I honor your beauty bright; - For love I profess, - I can do no less. - Thou hast my favor won. - And since I see - Your modesty, - I pray you agree, - And fancy me, - Though I’m but a farmer’s son. - - SHE. No; I am a lady gay; - It is very well known I may - Have men of renown - In country or town. - So, Roger, without delay - Court Bridget, or Sue, - Kate, Nancy, or Prue; - Their loves will soon be won; - But don’t you dare - To speak me fair, - As if I were - At my last pray’r - To marry a farmer’s son. - - HE. My father has riches in store, - Two hundred a year and more, - Besides sheep and cows, - Carts, harrows, and ploughs - His age is above threescore, - And when he does die, - Then merrily I - Shall have what he has won. - Both land and kine, - All shall be thine, - If thou’lt incline, - And will be mine, - And marry a farmer’s son. - - SHE. A fig for your cattle and corn! - Your proffered love I scorn. - ’Tis known very well - My name it is Nell, - And you’re but a bumpkin born. - -[Illustration] - - HE. Well, since it is so, - Away I will go, - And I hope no harm is done. - Farewell! adieu! - I hope to woo - As good as you, - And win her too, - Though I’m but a farmer’s son. - - SHE. Be not in such haste, quoth she; - Perhaps we may still agree, - For, man, I protest - I was but in jest; - Come, prithee, sit down by me. - For thou art the man - That verily can - Win me if e’er I’m won. - Both straight and tall, - Genteel withal, - Therefore I shall - Be at your call - To marry a farmer’s son. - - HE. Dear Nelly, believe me now, - I solemnly swear and vow - No lords in their lives - Take pleasure in wives - Like we that do drive the plough. - Whatever we gain - With labor or pain, - We don’t after wantons run, - As courtiers do. - And I never knew - A London beau - That could outdo - A country farmer’s son. - -[Illustration: “What hap had I to marry a Shrow”] - - - - -“_WHAT HAP HAD I TO MARRY A SHROW!_” - - - What hap had I to marry a shrow! - For she hath given me many a blow, - And how to please her, alack! I do not know. - - From morn to even her tongue ne’er lies; - Sometimes she brawls, sometimes she cries; - Yet I can scarce keep her talents from mine eyes. - - If I go abroad and late come in, - “Sir Knave,” saith she, “where have you been?” - And do I well or ill, she claps me on the skin. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: THE LEATHER BOTTÈL] - - - - -_THE LEATHER BOTTÈL._ - - - ’Twas God above that made all things, - The heav’ns, the earth, and all therein, - The ships that on the sea do swim - To guard from foes that none come in; - And let them all do what they can, - ’Twas for one end--the use of man. - So I wish in heav’n his soul may dwell - That first found out the leather bottèl. - - Now, what do you say to these cans of wood? - Oh no, in faith they cannot be good; - For if the bearer fall by the way, - Why, on the ground your liquor doth lay; - But had it been in a leather bottèl, - Although he had fallen all had been well. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - -[Illustration] - - Then what do you say to these glasses fine? - Oh, they shall have no praise of mine, - For if you chance to touch the brim, - Down falls the liquor and all therein; - But had it been in a leather bottèl, - And the stoppel in, all had been well. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - Then what do you say to these black pots three? - If a man and his wife should not agree, - Why, they’ll tug and pull till their liquor doth spill; - In a leather bottèl they may tug their fill, - And pull away till their hearts do ake, - And yet their liquor no harm can take. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - -[Illustration] - - Then what do you say to these flagons fine? - Oh, they shall have no praise of mine, - For when a Lord is about to dine, - And sends them to be filled with wine, - The man with the flagon doth run away, - Because it is silver most gallant and gay. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - - A leather bottèl we know is good, - Far better than glasses or cans of wood, - For when a man’s at work in the field, - Your glasses and pots no comfort will yield; - But a good leather bottle standing by - Will raise his spirits whenever he’s dry. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - - At noon, the haymakers sit them down, - To drink from their bottles of ale nut-brown; - In summer, too, when the weather is warm, - A good bottle full will do them no harm. - Then the lads and the lasses begin to tottle, - But what would they do without this bottle? - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - - There’s never a Lord, an Earl, or Knight, - But in this bottle doth take delight; - For when he’s hunting of the deer, - He oft doth wish for a bottle of beer. - Likewise the man that works in the wood, - A bottle of beer will oft do him good. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - And when the bottle at last grows old, - And will good liquor no longer hold, - Out of the side you may take a clout, - To mend your shoes when they’re worn out; - Or take and hang it up on a pin, - ’Twill serve to put hinges and odd things in. - _So I wish in heav’n_, etc. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: _NEVER LOVE THEE MORE_] - - - - -_NEVER LOVE THEE MORE._ - - - My dear and only love, take heed - How thou thyself expose - By letting longing lovers feed - Upon such looks as those. - I’ll marble-wall thee round about, - And build without a door; - But if thy heart do once break out, - I’ll never love thee more. - - Let not their oaths, by volleys shot, - Make any breach at all, - Nor smoothness of their language plot - A way to scale the wall; - No balls of wildfire love consume - The shrine which I adore; - For if such smoke about it fume, - I’ll never love thee more. - -[Illustration] - - Then if by fraud or by consent - To ruin thou shouldst come, - I’ll sound no trouble as of wont, - Nor march by beat of drum, - But fold my arms, like ensigns, up, - Thy falsehood to deplore, - And after such a bitter cup - I’ll never love thee more. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: “Here’s to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen”] - - - - -“_HERE’S TO THE MAIDEN OF BASHFUL FIFTEEN._” - - - Here’s to the maiden of bashful fifteen, - Now to the widow of fifty; - Here’s to the flaunting extravagant quean, - And here’s to the housewife that’s thrifty. - Let the toast pass, - Drink to the lass; - I warrant she’ll prove - An excuse for the glass. - - Here’s to the charmer whose dimples we prize, - Now to the damsel with none, sir; - Here’s to the girl with a pair of blue eyes, - And now to the nymph with but one, sir. - _Let the toast_, etc. - - Here’s to the maid with a bosom of snow, - Now to her that’s as brown as a berry; - Here’s to the wife with a face full of woe, - And now to the damsel that’s merry. - _Let the toast_, etc. - -[Illustration] - - For let her be clumsy or let her be slim, - Young or ancient, I care not a feather; - So fill up a bumper, nay, fill to the brim, - And let us e’en toast ’em together. - _Let the toast_, etc. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: BARBARA ALLEN] - -[Illustration] - - - - -_BARBARA ALLEN._ - - - All in the merry Month of May, - when green leaves they was springing, - This young man on his Death-bed lay, - for the love of _Barbara Allen_. - - He sent his man unto her then, - in the Town where she was dwelling: - You must come to my Master dear, - if your name be _Barbara Allen_. - - For Death is printed in his face, - and Sorrow’s in him dwelling, - And you must come to my Master dear, - if your name is _Barbara Allen_. - - If Death be printed on his face, - and Sorrow’s in him dwelling, - Then little better shall he be - for Bonny _Barbara Allen_. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - So slowly, slowly she got up, - and so slowly she came to him, - And all she said when she came there, - young Man, I think you are a dying. - - He turn’d his face unto her then: - if you be _Barbara Allen_, - My dear, said he, come pitty me, - as on my Death-bed I am lying. - - If on your Death-bed you be lying, - what is that to _Barbara Allen_? - I cannot keep you from Death, - so farewell, said _Barbara Allen_. - - He turn’d his face unto the Wall, - and Death came creeping to him: - Then adieu, adieu, and adieu to all, - and adieu to _Barbara Allen_. - - And as she was walking on a day, - she heard the Bell a Ringing, - And it did seem to ring to her, - unworthy _Barbara Allen_. - - She turn’d herself round about, - and she spy’d the Corps a coming: - Lay down, Lay down the Corps of Clay, - that I may look upon him. - - And all the while she looked on, - so loudly she was laughing; - While all her Friends cry’d amain, - unworthy _Barbara Allen_. - -[Illustration] - - When he was dead & laid in Grave, - then Death came creeping to she. - O Mother! Mother! make my Bed, - for his Death hath quite undone me. - -[Illustration] - - A hard hearted Creature that I was, - to slight one that loved me so dearly; - I wish I had been more kinder to him, - the time of his Life, when he was near me. - - So this Maid she then did dye, - and desired to be buried by him, - And repented herself before she dy’d - that ever she did deny him. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: _Perigot & Cuddy’s Roundelay._] - -[Illustration] - - - - -_PERIGOT AND CUDDY’S ROUNDELAY._ - -BY EDM. SPENSER. - - - It fell upon a holy-eve - (Heigho, holy-day!), - When holy fathers wont to shrive - (Now ’ginneth this roundelay), - Sitting upon a hill so high - (Heigho, the high hill!) - The while my flock did feed thereby, - The while the shepherd’s self did spill. - - I saw the bouncing Bellibone - (Heigho, bonny-bell!) - Tripping over the dale alone-- - She can trip it very well-- - Well decked in a frock of gray - (Heigho, gray is great!) - And in a kirtle of green say-- - The green is for maidens meet. - - A chaplet on her head she wore - (Heigho, the chaplet!); - Of sweet violets therein was store-- - She’s sweeter than the violet. - -[Illustration] - - My sheep did leave their wonted food - (Heigho, silly sheep!) - And gazed on her as they were wood-- - Wood as he that did them keep. - - As the bonny lass passed by - (Heigho, bonny lass!) - She rolled at me with glancing eye - As clear as the crystal glass. - All as the sunny beam so bright - (Heigho, the sunbeam!) - Glanceth from Phœbus’ face forth-right, - So love into my heart did stream. - - Or as the thunder cleaves the clouds - (Heigho, the thunder!) - Wherein the lightsome leaven shrouds, - So cleaves my soul asunder; - Or as dame Cynthia’s silver ray - (Heigho, the moonlight!) - Upon the glistening wave doth play, - Such play is a piteous plight. - - The glance into my heart did glide - (Heigho, the glide!), - Therewith my soul was sharply gride. - Such wounds some waxen wide; - Hasting to wrench the arrow out - (Heigho, Perigot!), - I left the head in my heart-root: - It was a desperate shot. - - Then it rankleth aye more and more - (Heigho, the arrow!), - Nor can I find salve for my sore-- - Love is a cureless sorrow. - And though my bale with death I bought - (Heigho, heavy cheer!) - Yet should this lass not from my thought, - So you may buy gold too dear. - - But whether in painful love I pine - (Heigho, pinching pain!) - Or thrive in wealth, she shall be mine. - But if thou can her obtain, - And if for graceless grief I die - (Heigho, graceless grief!), - Witness she slew me with her eye, - Let thy folly be the preef (_sic_). - - And you that saw it, simple sheep - (Heigho, the fair flock!), - For prief thereof my death shall weep - And moan with many a mock. - So learn’d I love on a holy-eve - (Heigho, holy-day!) - That ever since my heart did grieve. - Now endeth our roundelay. - -[Illustration: - - _SALLY IN OUR ALLEY - A SONG by - H. CAREY_ -] - -[Illustration] - - - - -_SALLY IN OUR ALLEY._ - - - Of all the girls that are so smart - There’s none like pretty Sally: - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - There is no lady in the land - Is half so sweet as Sally: - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - - Her father he makes cabbage-nets, - And through the streets does cry ’em; - Her mother she sells laces long - To such as please to buy ’em; - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - But sure such folks could ne’er beget - So sweet a girl as Sally! - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - - When she is by, I leave my work, - I love her so sincerely; - My master comes like any Turk, - And bangs me most severely; - - But let him bang his bellyful, - I’ll bear it all for Sally: - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - Of all the days that’s in the week - I dearly love but one day, - And that’s the day that comes betwixt - A Saturday and Monday; - For then I’m drest all in my best - To walk abroad with Sally: - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - -[Illustration] - - My master carries me to church, - And often am I blamed - Because I leave him in the lurch - As soon as text is named; - I leave the church in sermon-time - And slink away to Sally: - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - - When Christmas comes about again, - Oh, then I shall have money; - I’ll hoard it up, and box it all, - I’ll give it to my honey: - I would it were ten thousand pound, - I’d give it all to Sally: - She is the darling of my heart, - And she lives in our alley. - -[Illustration] - - My master and the neighbors all - Make game of me and Sally, - And, but for her, I’d better be - A slave and row a galley; - -[Illustration] - - But when my seven long years are out, - Oh, then I’ll marry Sally! - And then how happily we’ll live, - But _not_ in our alley. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: “_EARLY ONE MORNING_”] - - - - -“_EARLY ONE MORNING._” - - - Early one morning, just as the sun was rising, - I heard a maid sing in the valley below: - “Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, never leave me! - How could you use a poor maiden so? - - “Oh, gay is the garland and fresh are the roses - I’ve culled from the garden to bind up my brow. - Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, do not leave me! - How could you use a poor maiden so? - - “Remember the vows you made to your Mary; - Remember the bow’r where you vowed to be true. - Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, do not leave me! - How could you use a poor maiden so?” - - Thus sang the poor maiden, her sorrows bewailing; - Thus sang the poor maid in the valley below: - “Oh, don’t deceive me! oh, never leave me! - How could you use a poor maiden so?” - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: _Kitty of Coleraine_] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - -_KITTY OF COLERAINE._ - - - As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping - With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine, - When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled, - And all the sweet buttermilk water’d the plain. - - Oh, what shall I do now? ’Twas looking at you, now. - Sure, sure, such a pitcher I’ll ne’er meet again. - ’Twas the pride of my dairy. Oh, Barney M’Leary, - You’re sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine! - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her, - That such a misfortune should give her such pain. - A kiss then I gave her. Before I did leave her, - She vow’d for such pleasure she’d break it again. - - ’Twas haymaking season. I can’t tell the reason-- - Misfortunes will never come single--that’s plain-- - For very soon after poor Kitty’s disaster, - The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: OLD KING COLE] - - - - -_OLD KING COLE._ - - - Old King Cole was a merry old soul, - And a merry old soul was he; - And he call’d for his pipe, - And he call’d for his bowl, - And he call’d for his fiddlers three. - Then twedle, twedle, twedle, twedle, twedle went the fiddlers; - Twedle, twedle, twedle, twedle, twedle, twedle twee. - There’s none so rare as can compare - To King Cole and his fiddlers three. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - HARVEST - HOME -] - - - - -_HARVEST-HOME._ - - - Come, Roger and Nell; - Come, Simkin and Bell; - Each lad with his lass hither come, - With singing and dancing, - In pleasure advancing - To celebrate harvest-home. - ’Tis Ceres bids play - And keep holiday - To celebrate harvest-home. - - Our labor is o’er, and our barns in full store - Now swell with rich gifts of the land. - Let each man then take, for the prong and the rake, - His can and his lass in his hand. - ’Tis Ceres bids play - And keep holiday - To celebrate harvest-home. - - No courtiers can be so happy as we - In innocent pastime and mirth, - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - While thus we carouse with our sweetheart or spouse, - And rejoice o’er the fruits of the earth. - ’Tis Ceres bids play - And keep holiday - To celebrate harvest-home. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration: - - - - - DOWN IN - CVPID’S - GARDEN -] - - - - -“_’TWAS DOWN IN CUPID’S GARDEN._” - - - ’Twas down in Cupid’s garden - For pleasure I did go, - To see the fairest flowers - That in that garden grow. - The first it was the jessamine, - The lily, pink, and rose, - And surely they’re the fairest flow’rs - That in that garden grows! - - I’d not walked in that garden - The part of half an hour, - When there I saw two pretty maids - Sitting under a shady bower. - The first was lovely Nancy, - So beautiful and fair; - The other was a virgin - Who did the laurel wear. - - I boldly stepped up to her, - And unto her did say, - Are you engaged to any young man? - Do tell to me, I pray! - -[Illustration] - - I’m not engaged to any young man, - I solemnly do swear; - I mean to live a virgin, - And still the laurel wear. - - Then hand in hand together - This lovely couple went; - Resolved was the sailor boy - To know her full intent-- - To know if he would slighted be - When to her the truth he told. - Oh no! oh no! oh no! she cried; - I love a sailor bold. - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: - - PHILLADA - FLOUTS ME -] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -_PHILLADA._ - - - Oh, what a pain is love! - How shall I bear it? - She will unconstant prove; - I greatly fear it. - She so torments my mind - That my strength faileth, - And wavers with the wind - As a ship saileth. - Please her the best I may, - She loves still to gainsay: - Alack and well-a-day! - Phillada flouts me. - - All the fair yesterday - She did pass by me; - She looked another way - And would not spy me. - I woo’d her for to dine, - But could not get her; - Will had her to the wine-- - He might intreat her. - With Daniel she did dance; - On me she looked askance: - Oh, thrice unhappy chance! - Phillada flouts me. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - Fair maid! be not so coy; - Do not disdain me! - I am my mother’s joy: - Sweet! entertain me! - She’ll give me when she dies - All that is fitting: - Her poultry and her bees, - And her goose sitting, - A pair of mattress beds, - And a bag full of shreds: - And yet, for all this guedes, - Phillada flouts me. - -[Illustration] - - She hath a clout of mine, - Wrought with blue coventry, - Which she keeps for a sign - Of my fidelity; - But, ’faith, if she flinch, - She shall not wear it; - To Tib, my t’other wench, - I mean to bear it. - And yet it grieves my heart - So soon from her to part: - Death strike me with his dart! - Phillada flouts me. - -[Illustration] - - Thou shalt eat crudded cream - All the year lasting, - And drink the crystal stream - Pleasant in tasting, - -[Illustration] - - Whig and whey whilst thou lust, - And ramble-berries, - Pie-lid and pastry crust, - Pears, plums, and cherries; - Thy raiment shall be thin, - Made of a weevil’s skin-- - Yet all’s not worth a pin: - Phillada flouts me. - - Fair maiden! have a care, - And in time take me; - I can have those as fair, - If you forsake me: - For Doll the dairy-maid - Laughed at me lately, - And wanton Winifred - Favors me greatly. - -[Illustration] - - One throws milk on my clothes; - T’other plays with my nose: - What wanting signs are those! - Phillada flouts me. - - I cannot work nor sleep - At all in season, - Love wounds my heart so deep, - Without all reason. - I ’gin to pine away - In my love’s shadow, - Like as a fat beast may - Penned in a meadow. - I shall be dead, I fear, - Within this thousand year: - And all for that my dear - Phillada flouts me. - -[Illustration] - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLD SONGS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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