Which did the signal aim When, from a meadow by, The English archery Struck the French horses, With Spanish yew so strong, None from his fellow starts, Stuck close together. When down their bows they threw, And forth their bilbows drew, And on the French they flew, Not one was tardy: Arms were from shoulders sent; Scalps to the teeth were rent; Down the French peasants went; Our men were hardy. This while our noble king, His broadsword brandishing, Down the French host did ding, As to o'erwhelm it; And many a deep wound lent, And many a cruel dent Bruised his helmet. Glo'ster, that duke so good, With his brave brother Clarence, in steel so bright, Warwick in blood did wade; Oxford the foe invade, And cruel slaughter made, Still as they ran up. Suffolk his axe did ply, Upon St. Crispin's day Or England breed again Such a King Harry? MICHAEL DRAYTON. Take the Old Cloake about thee. THIS winter weather, it waxeth cold, And Boreas blows his blastes so cold "Rise up, and save cowe Crumbocke's life- "O Bell, why dost thou flyte and scorne? Thou kenst my cloake is very thin; It is so bare and overworne A cricke he thereon can not renn. For Ile have a new cloake about me." "Cow Crumbocke is a very good cow She has been alwayes true to the payle; She has helped us to butter and cheese, I trow, And other things she will not fayle; I wold be loth to see her pine; Good husbande, counsel take of me— It is not for us to go so fine; Man, take thy old cloake about thee." "My cloake, it was a very good cloake— I have had it four-and-forty year. "T is now but a sigh clout as you may see; It will neither hold nor winde nor raineAnd Ile have a new cloake about me." "It is four-and-forty years ago Since the one of us the other did ken; And we have had betwixt us towe Of children either nine or ten. We have brought them up to women and men- "O Bell, my wife, why dost thou floute? Now is now, and then was then; Seeke now all the world throughout, Thou kenst not clownes from gentlemen; They are clad in blacke, greene, yellowe, or gray, So far above their own degree— Once in my life Ile do as they, For Ile have a new cloake about me." "King Stephen was a worthy peere— And thou'se but of a low degree- Bell, my wife, she loves not strife, And oft to live a quiet life I'm forced to yield though I be good-man. It's not for a man with a woman to threepe, Unless he first give o'er the plea; As we began sae will we leave, And Ile take my old cloake about me. ANONYMOUS. A Contented Mind. I WEIGH not fortune's frown or smile; I quake not at the thunder's crack; I swound not at the news of wrack, I see ambition never pleased; I see some Tantals starved in store; I see even Midas gape for more; I feign not friendship where I hate; Neither too lofty nor too low: A mind content, a conscience clear. JOSHUA SYLVESTER. Love me Little, Love me Long. LOVE me little, love me long! Is the burden of my song: Burneth soon to waste. Still I would not have thee cold- Love that lasteth till 't is old Fadeth not in haste. Love me little, love me long! If thou lovest me too much, For I fear the end. |