THURSDAY;

O B,

THE SPELL.

HOBNELIA,

HOBNELIA, feated in a dreary vale,

In penfive mood rehears'd her piteous tale; Her piteous tale the winds in fighs bemoan, And pining eccho answers groan for groan. I rue the day, a rueful day I trow; The woful day; a day, indeed, of woe! When Lubberkin to town his cattle drove, A maiden fine bedight he happ'd to love; The maiden fine bedight his love retains, And for the village he forfakes the plains. Return, my Lubberkin, thefe ditties hear; Spells will I try, and fpells fhall ease my care. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. When first the year, I heard the cuckow fing, And call with welcome note the budding fpring, I ftraitway fet a running with fuch hatte, Deb'rah, that won the fmock, fcarce ran fo falt. 'Till spent for lack of breath, quite weary grown, Upon a rising bank I fat adown,

H 3

Then

Then doff'd my fhoe, and, by my troth, I fwear,
Therein I spy'd this yellow frizled hair,

As like to Lubberkin's in curl and hue,
As if upon his comely pate it grew.

With my fharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.
At eve last midfummer no fleep I fought,
But to the field a bag of hemp-feed brought,
I scattered round the feed on every fide,
And three times, in a trembling accent, cry'd,
"This hemp-feed with my virgin hand I fow,
"Who fhall my true-love be, the crop fhall mow."
I ftrait look'd back, and, if my eyes fpeak truth,
With his keen fcythe behind me came the youth.
With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.

Laft Valentine, the day when birds of kind Their paramours with mutual chirpings find; I rearly rofe, juft at the break of day, Before the fun had chas'd the ftars away; A-field I went, amid the morning dew, To milk my kine (for so should huswives do) Thee first I spy'd; and the first swain we see, In spite of fortune, fhall our true-love be; See, Lubberkin, each bird his partner take; And canft thou, then, thy fweetheart dear forfake? With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Laft May-day fair I fearch'd to find a fnail That might my fecret lover's name reveal ;

Upon

Upon a gooseberry bush a snail I found,
For, always, fnails near sweetest fruit abound.
I feiz'd the vermin, home I quickly fped,
And on the hearth the milk-white embers spread.
Slow crawl'd the fnail, and, if I right can spell,
In the foft ashes mark'd a curious L:

Oh, may this wond'rous omen lucky prove!
For L is found in Lubberkin and Love.

With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, aronnd, around.
Two hazle nuts I threw into the flame,
And to each nut I gave a sweet-heart's name.
This with the loudest bounce me fore amaz'd,
That in a flame of brightest colour blaz'd.
As blaz'd the nut fo may thy passion grow;
For 'twas thy nut that did fo brightly glow.
With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.
As peafcods once I pluck'd, I chanc'd to fee
One that was closely fill'd with three times three,
Which when I cropp'd I fafely home convey'd,
And o'er the door the spell in secret laid;
My wheel I turn'd, and sung a ballad new,
While from the spindle I the fleeces drew ;
The latch mov'd up, when who fhould first come in,
But, in his proper perfon,Lubberkin.

I broke my yarn, surpris'd the fight to see;
Sure fign that he would break his word with me.
Eftfoons I join'd it with my wonted flight;

So may again his love with mine unite!

With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. This Lady-fly I take from off the grafs, Whofe fpotted back might scarlet red furpass. Fly, Lady-bird, north, fouth, or eaft or weft,

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Fly where the man is found that I love beft." He leaves my hand! fee, to the weft he's flown, To call my true-love from the faithless town.

With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. I pare this pippin round and round again, My fhepherd's name to flourish on the plain. I fling th' unbroken paring o'er my head, Upon the grafs a perfect L is read;

Yet on my heart a fairer L is feen

Than what the paring marks upon the green.

With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around.

This pippin fhall another tryal make;

See from the core two kernels brown I take;
This on my cheek for Lubberkin is worn,
And Boobyclod on t'other fide is born.
But Boobyclod foon drops upon the ground,
A certain token that his love's unfound,
While Lubberkin flicks firmly to the laft;
Oh were his lips to mine but join'd fo faft!
With my fharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.

As Lubberkin once slept beneath a tree,
I twitch'd his dangling garter from his knee;

He

He wift not when the hempen string I drew.
Now mine I quickly doff, of inkle blue;
Together faft I tye the garters twain,
And, while I knit the knot, repeat the strain:
"Three times a true-love's knot I tye fecure;
"Firm be the knot, firm may his love endure."
With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.
As I was wont, I trudg'd laft market-day
To town, with new-laid eggs preferv'd in hay.
I made my market long before 'twas night;
My purse grew heavy and my basket light.
Strait to the 'pothecary's fhop I went,
And in love-powder all my money spent;
Behap what will, next Sunday, after prayers,
When to the alehouse Lubberkin repairs,
These golden flies into his mug I'll throw,
And foon the fwain with fervent love shall glow.
With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.

But hold, our Lightfoot barks, and cocks his ears, O'er yonder ftile fee Lubberkin appears.

He comes, he comes, Hobnelia's not bewray'd, Nor fhall fhe, crown'd with willow, die a maid. He vows, he fwears, he'll give me a green gown ; Oh dear! I fall adown, adown, adown;