George Gascoigne [1525?-1577]
PHILLIDA AND CORIDON
In the merry month of May, In a morn by break of day, Forth I walked by the wood-side When as May was in his pride: There I spied all alone Phillida and Coridon. Much ado there was, God wot! He would love and she would not. She said, Never man was true; He said, None was false to you. He said, He had loved her long; She said, Love should have no wrong. Coridon would kiss her then; She said, Maids must kiss no men Till they did for good and all; Then she made the shepherd call All the heavens to witness truth Never loved a truer youth. Thus with many a pretty oath, Yea and nay, and faith and troth, Such as silly shepherds use When they will not Love abuse, Love, which had been long deluded, Was with kisses sweet concluded; And Phillida, with garlands gay, Was made the Lady of the May.
Nicholas Breton [1545?-1626?]
"CRABBED AGE AND YOUTH" From "The Passionate Pilgrim"
Crabbed Age and Youth Cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, Age is full of care; Youth like summer morn, Age like winter weather; Youth like summer brave, Age like winter bare. Youth is full of sport, Age's breath is short; Youth is nimble, Age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, Age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and Age is tame. Age, I do abhor thee; Youth, I do adore thee; O, my Love, my Love is young! Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee! For methinks thou stay'st too long.
William Shakespeare [1564-1616]
"IT WAS A LOVER AND HIS LASS" From "As You Like It"
It was a lover and his lass, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, That o'er the green corn-field did pass, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
Between the acres of the rye, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, These pretty country folks would lie, In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
This carol they began that hour, With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, How that life was but a flower In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
And, therefore, take the present time With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, For love is crowned with the prime In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding; Sweet lovers love the spring.
William Shakespeare [1564-1616]
"I LOVED A LASS"
I loved a lass, a fair one, As fair as e'er was seen; She was indeed a rare one, Another Sheba Queen: But, fool as then I was, I thought she loved me too: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo!
Her hair like gold did glister, Each eye was like a star, She did surpass her sister, Which passed all others far; She would me honey call, She'd - O she'd kiss me too! But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo!
Many a merry meeting My love and I have had; She was my only sweeting, She made my heart full glad; The tears stood in her eyes Like to the morning dew: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo!
Her cheeks were like the cherry, Her skin was white as snow; When she was blithe and merry She angel-like did show; Her waist exceeding small, The fives did fit her shoe: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo!
In summer time or winter She had her heart's desire; I still did scorn to stint her From sugar, sack, or fire; The world went round about, No cares we ever knew: But now, alas! she's left me, Falero, lero, loo!
To maidens' vows and swearing Henceforth no credit give; You may give them the hearing, But never them believe; They are as false as fair, Unconstant, frail, untrue: For mine, alas! hath left me, Falero, lero, loo!
George Wither [1588-1667]
TO CHLORIS
Ah, Chloris! that I now could sit As unconcerned as when Your infant beauty could beget No pleasure, nor no pain! When I the dawn used to admire, And praised the coming day, I little thought the growing fire Must take my rest away.
Your charms in harmless childhood lay Like metals in the mine; Age from no face took more away Than youth concealed in thine. But as your charms insensibly To their perfection pressed, Fond love as unperceived did fly, And in my bosom rest.
My passion with your beauty grew, And Cupid at my heart, Still as his mother favored you, Threw a new flaming dart: Each gloried in their wanton part; To make a lover, he Employed the utmost of his art - To make a beauty, she.
Charles Sedley [1639?-1701]
SONG
The merchant, to secure his treasure, Conveys it in a borrowed name: Euphelia serves to grace my measure; But Chloe is my real flame.
My softest verse, my darling lyre, Upon Euphelia's toilet lay; When Chloe noted her desire That I should sing, that I should play.
My lyre I tune, my voice I raise; But with my numbers mix my sighs: And while I sing Euphelia's praise, I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.
Fair Chloe blushed: Euphelia frowned: I sung, and gazed: I played, and trembled: And Venus to the Loves around Remarked, how ill we all dissembled.
Matthew Prior [1664-1721]
PIOUS SELINDA
Pious Selinda goes to prayers, If I but ask her favor; And yet the silly fool's in tears If she believes I'll leave her; Would I were free from this restraint, Or else had hopes to win her: Would she could make of me a saint, Or I of her a sinner.
William Congreve [1670-1729]
FAIR HEBE
Fair Hebe I left, with a cautious design To escape from her charms, and to drown them in wine, I tried it; but found, when I came to depart, The wine in my head, and still love in my heart.
I repaired to my Reason, entreated her aid; Who paused on my case and each circumstance weighed, Then gravely pronounced, in return to my prayer, That "Hebe was fairest of all that was fair!"
"That's a truth," replied I, "I've no need to be taught; I came for your counsel to find out a fault." "If that's all," quoth Reason, "return as you came; To find fault with Hebe, would forfeit my name."
What hopes then, alas! of relief from my pain, While, like lightning, she darts through each throbbing vein? My Senses surprised, in her favor took arms; And Reason confirms me a slave to her charms.
John West [1693-1766]
A MAIDEN'S IDEAL OF A HUSBAND From "The Contrivances"
Genteel in personage, Conduct, and equipage, Noble by heritage, Generous and free: Brave, not romantic; Learned, not pedantic; Frolic, not frantic; This must he be.
Honor maintaining, Meanness disdaining, Still entertaining, Engaging and new. Neat, but not finical; Sage, but not cynical; Never tyrannical, But ever true.
Henry Carey [? -1743]
"PHILLADA FLOUTS ME"
O what a plague is love! How shall I bear it? She will inconstant 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.
At the fair yesterday She did pass by me; She looked another way And would not spy me: I wooed her for to dine, But could not get her; Will had her to the wine - He might entreat her. With Daniel she did dance, On me she looked askance: O thrice unhappy chance! Phillada flouts me.
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!
She hath a clout of mine Wrought with blue coventry, Which she keeps for a sign Of my fidelity: But i' 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.
Thou shalt eat crudded cream All the year lasting, And drink the crystal stream Pleasant in tasting; Whig and whey whilst thou lust, And bramble-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.
In the last month of May I made her posies; I heard her often say That she loved roses. Cowslips and gillyflowers And the white lily I brought to deck the bowers For my sweet Philly. But she did all disdain, And threw them back again; Therefore 'tis flat and plain 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. 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.
Unknown
"WHEN MOLLY SMILES"
When Molly smiles beneath her cow, I feel my heart - I can't tell how; When Molly is on Sunday dressed, On Sundays I can take no rest.