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26.

I will you bring; and with a ring,
By way of marriage

I will you take, and lady make,
As shortly as I can:

Thus have you won an Earles son,
And not a banished man.

Here may ye see that women be
In love meek, kind, and stable;
Let never man reprove them than,
Or call them variable;

But rather pray God that we may
To them be comfortable;

Which sometime proveth such as He loveth,
If they be charitable.

For sith men would that women should
Be meek to them each one;

Much more ought they to God obey,
And serve but Him alone.

As ye came from the Holy Land

AS ye came from the holy land
Of Walsinghame,

Met you not with my true love
By the way as you came?

How should I know your true love,

That have met many a one

As I came from the holy land,
That have come, that have gone?

16th Cent.

She is neither white nor brown,

But as the heavens fair;

There is none hath her form divine

In the earth or the air.

Such a one did I meet, good sir,

Such an angelic face,

Who like a nymph, like a queen,
In her gait, in her grace.

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She hath left me here alone

All alone, as unknown,

Who sometime did me lead with herself,
And me loved as her own.

What's the cause that she leaves you alone

And a new way doth take,

That sometime did love you as her own,
And her joy did you make?

I have loved her all my youth,
But now am old, as you see:
Love likes not the falling fruit,
Nor the withered tree.

Know that Love is a careless child,
And forgets promise past:
He is blind, he is deaf when he list,
And in faith never fast.

His desire is a dureless content,

And a trustless joy;

He is won with a world of despair,
And is lost with a toy.

27.

28.

Of womenkind such indeed is the love,
Or the word love abused,
Under which many childish desires
And conceits are excusèd.

But true love is a durable fire,

In the mind ever burning,
Never sick, never dead, never cold,
From itself never turning.

The Lover in Winter Plaineth for

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the Spring

16th Cent. (?)

WESTERN wind, when wilt thou blow
That the small rain down can rain?
Christ, that my love were in my arms
And I in my bed again!

Balow

BALOW, my babe, lie still and sleep!

16th Cent.

It grieves me sore to see thee weep.
Wouldst thou be quiet I'se be glad,
Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad:
Balow my boy, thy mother's joy,
Thy father breeds me great annoy—
Balow, la-low!

When he began to court my love,
And with his sugred words me move,
His faynings false and flattering cheer
To me that time did not appear:

But now I see most cruellye
He cares ne for my babe nor me-
Balow, la-low!

Lie still, my darling, sleep awhile,
And when thou wak'st thou❜le sweetly smile:
But smile not as thy father did,

To cozen maids: nay, God forbid !
But yet I fear thou wilt go near
Thy father's heart and face to bear-
Balow, la-low!

I cannot choose but ever will
Be loving to thy father still;
Where'er he go, where'er he ride,
My love with him doth still abide;
In weal or woe, where'er he go,
My heart shall ne'er depart him fro—
Balow, la-low!

But do not, do not, pretty mine,
To faynings false thy heart incline!
Be loyal to thy lover true,

And never change her for a new:
If good or fair, of her have care
For women's banning's wondrous sare-
Balow, la-low!

Bairn, by thy face I will beware;
Like Sirens' words, I'll come not near;
My babe and I together will live;
He'll comfort me when cares do grieve.
My babe and I right soft will lie,
And ne'er respect man's crueltye-
Balow, la-low!

29.

Farewell, farewell, the falsest youth
That ever kist a woman's mouth!

I wish all maids be warn'd by me
Never to trust man's curtesye ;

For if we do but chance to bow,
They'll use us then they care not how-
Balow, la-low!

The Old Cloak

16th Cent. (?)

HIS winter's weather it waxeth cold,

THIS

And frost it freezeth on every hill,
And Boreas blows his blast so bold
That all our cattle are like to spill.
Bell, my wife, she loves no strife;
She said unto me quietlye,

Rise up, and save cow Crumbock's life!
Man, put thine old cloak about thee!

He. O Bell my wife, why dost thou flyte?
Thou kens my cloak is very thin:

It is so bare and over worn,

A crickè thereon cannot renn.
Then I'll no longer borrow nor lend;
For once I'll new apparell'd be;
To-morrow I'll to town and spend;

For I'll have a new cloak about me.

She. Cow Crumbock is a very good cow:
She has been always true to the pail;

She has helped us to butter and cheese, I trow,
And other things she will not fail.

39. flyte] scold.

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