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The embers are raked;

"Tis midnight now by chanticleer's first crowing; Let's kindly carouse

Whilst 'top of the house

The cats fall out in the heat of their wooing.
Time, whilst thy hour-glass does run out,
This flowing glass shall go about.

Stay, stay, the nurse is waked, the child does cry,
No song so ancient is as lulla-by.

The cradle's rocked, the child is hushed again,
Then hey for the maids, and ho for the men.
Now every one advance his glass;
Then all at once together clash;
Experienced lovers know

This clashing does but shew,

That, as in music, so in love must be

Some discord to make up a harmony.

Sing, sing! When crickets sing why should not we?

The crickets were merry before us;
They sung us thanks ere we made them a fire.
They taught us to sing in a chorus:

The chimney's their church, the oven their quire.
Once more the cock cries cock-a-doodle-doo.
The owl cries o'er the barn, to-whit-to-whoo!
Benighted travellers now lose their way
Whom Will-of-the-wisp bewitches:
About and about he leads them astray
Through bogs, through hedges, and ditches.
Hark! hark! the cloister bell is rung!
Alas! the midnight dirge is sung.

Let 'em ring,

Let 'em sing,

Whilst we spend the night in love and in laughter. When night is gone,

O then too soon

The discords and cares of the day come after.

Come boys! a health, a health, a double health
To those who 'scape from care by shunning wealth.
Dispatch it away
Before it be day,

"Twill quickly grow early when it is late :
A health to thee,

To him, to me,

To all who beauty love, and business hate.

THE CRUEL BROTHER,

GRIEVE NOT FOR THE PAST.

EEP no more for what is past,

WE

For time in motion makes such haste

He hath no leisure to descry

Those errors which he passeth by.

If we consider accident,

And how repugnant unto sense

It pays desert with bad event,
We shall disparage Providence.

GERVASE MARKHAM AND WILLIAM

SAMPSON.

[THESE writers belong to the time of Charles I., in whose service Markham bore a captain's commission. He was a writer of some authority in his day on agriculture and husbandry. Of Sampson nothing is known except that he was the author of two plays, and assisted Markham in the piece from which the following song is taken.]

COME

HEROD AND ANTIPATER.

SIMPLES TO SELL.

OME will you buy? for I have here
The rarest gums that ever were;
Gold is but dross, and features die,
Else Esculapius tells a lie.
But I,

Come will you buy?

Have medicines for that malady.

Is there a lady in this place,
Would not be masked, but for her face?
O do not blush, for here is that

Will make your pale cheeks plump and fat.
Then why

Should I thus cry,

And none a scruple of me buy?

Come buy, you lusty gallants,

These simples which I sell;

In all your days were never seen like these,
For beauty, strength, and smell.

Here's the king-cup, the pansy with the violet,
The rose that loves the shower,

The wholesome gilliflower,

Both the cowslip, lily,

And the daffodilly,

With a thousand in my power.

Here's golden amaranthus,

That true love can provoke,

Of horehound store, and poisoning helebore,

With the polipode of the oak;

Here's chaste vervine, and lustful eringo,

Health preserving sage,

And rue which cures old age,

With a world of others,
Making fruitful mothers;

All these attend me as my page.

235

JASPER MAYNE.

1604-1672.

[DR. JASPER MAYNE was a distinguished preacher in the time of Charles I., and held two livings in the gift of the University of Oxford, from which he was expelled under the Commonwealth. At the Restoration, however, he was not only re-appointed to his former benefice, but made chaplain in ordinary to his Majesty, and archdeacon of Chichester. Dr. Mayne is said to have been a clergyman of the most exemplary character; but there is an anecdote related of him which, if true, shows that he was also a practical humorist. He had an old servant to whom he bequeathed a trunk, which he told him contained something that would make him drink after his death. When the trunk was opened on the Doctor's demise, it was found to contain-a red-herring.] {}

THE CITY MATCH.

WE

THE WONDERFUL FISH.

E show no monstrous crocodile,
Nor any prodigy of Nile;
No Remora that stops your fleet,
Like serjeant's gallants in the street;
No sea-horse which can trot or pace,
Or swim false gallop, post, or race:
For crooked dolphins we not care,
Though on their back a fiddler were:
The like to this fish, which we shew,
Was ne'er in Fish-street, old, or new;
Nor ever served to the sheriff's board,
Or kept in souse for the Mayor Lord.
Had old astronomers but seen

This fish, none else in heaven had been.

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Like those faint souls, who cheat themselves of breath,
And die for fear of death.

Since Love's the principle of life,
And you the object loved,
Let's, Luciamira, end this strife,
I cease to be removed.

We know not what they do, are gone from hence,
But here we love by sense.

If the Platonics, who would prove
Souls without bodies love,

Had, with respect, well understood,

The passions in the blood,

They had suffered bodies to have had their part,
And seated love in the heart.

SIR WILLIAM KILLIGREW.

1605-1693.

SELINDRA.

THE HAPPY HOUR.

YOME, come, thou glorious object of my sight,
Oh my joy! my life, my only delight!
May this glad minute be
Blessed to eternity.

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