47. GEORGE GASCOIGNE A Lover's Lullaby SING lullaby, as women do, 1525?-77 Wherewith they bring their babes to rest; And lullaby can I sing too, As womanly as can the best. It is now time to go to bed: Have won the haven within my head. Since courage quails and comes behind, Next lullaby my gazing eyes, Which wonted were to glance apace; For every glass may now suffice And lullaby my wanton will; Let reason's rule now reign thy thought; Since all too late I find by skill How dear I have thy fancies bought; With lullaby now take thine ease, Thus lullaby my youth, mine eyes, But welcome pain, let pleasure pass. 48. ALEXANDER MONTGOMERIE The Night is Near Gone HE EY! now the day dawis; Now shroudis the shawis Thro' Nature anon. On lovers wha lyis: The nicht is neir gone. The fieldis ouerflowis 48. shroudis] dress themselves. clears. gowans] daisies. 1540?-1610 ? shawis] woods. skaillis] The turtle that true is, The nicht is neir gone. Now hairtis with hindis On ground quhair they grone. Quhilk duly declaris The nicht is neir gone. The season excellis Through sweetness that smellis; Now Cupid compellis Our hairtis echone All courageous knichtis pairty] partner, mate. grone] groan, bell. mates. fone] foes. lampis] gallops. tursis] carry. tyndis] antlers. maikis] crampis] prances. hurchonis] hedgehogs, ' urchins.' The freikis on feildis Are broke on their breistis: So hard are their hittis, On ground quhile they grone. The nicht is neir gone. JOHN STILL, BISHOP OF BATH AND WELLS 49. I Jolly Good Ale and Old CANNOT eat but little meat, But sure I think that I can drink I nothing am a-cold; I stuff my skin so full within Back and side go bare, go bare 48. freikis] men, warriors. wight wapins] stout weapons. flittis] are at Titan] over against Titan (the sun), or read 'as.' cast. blonkis] white palfreys. But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, I love no roast but a nut-brown toast, A little bread shall do me stead; No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow, I am so wrapp'd and thoroughly lapp'd Back and side go bare, go bare, &c. And Tib, my wife, that as her life Back and side go bare, go bare, &c. Now let them drink till they nod and wink, Good ale doth bring men to; And all poor souls that have scour'd bowls God save the lives of them and their wives, Back and side go bare, go bare; Both foot and hand go cold; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, |