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629. THE COBBLERS' CATCH.
Come sit we by the fire's side, And roundly drink we here; Till that we see our cheeks ale-dy'd And noses tann'd with beer.
633. CONNUBII FLORES, OR THE WELL-WISHES AT WEDDINGS.
_Chorus Sacerdotum._ From the temple to your home May a thousand blessings come!
And a sweet concurring stream Of all joys to join with them.
_Chorus Juvenum._ Happy Day, Make no long stay Here In thy sphere; But give thy place to Night, That she, As thee, May be Partaker of this sight.
And since it was thy care To see the younglings wed, 'Tis fit that Night the pair Should see safe brought to bed.
_Chorus Senum._ Go to your banquet then, but use delight, So as to rise still with an appet.i.te.
Love is a thing most nice, and must be fed To such a height, but never surfeited.
What is beyond the mean is ever ill: _'Tis best to feed Love, but not overfill_; Go then discreetly to the bed of pleasure, And this remember, _virtue keeps the measure_.
_Chorus Virginum._ Lucky signs we have descri'd To encourage on the bride, And to these we have espi'd, Not a kissing Cupid flies Here about, but has his eyes To imply your love is wise.
_Chorus Pastorum._ Here we present a fleece To make a piece Of cloth; Nor, fair, must you be both Your finger to apply To housewifery.
Then, then begin To spin: And, sweetling, mark you, what a web will come Into your chests, drawn by your painful thumb.
_Chorus Matronarum._ Set you to your wheel, and wax Rich by the ductile wool and flax.
Yarn is an income, and the housewives' thread The larder fills with meat, the bin with bread.
_Chorus Senum._ Let wealth come in by comely thrift And not by any sordid shift; 'Tis haste Makes waste: Extremes have still their fault: _The softest fire makes the sweetest malt: Who grips too hard the dry and slippery sand Holds none at all, or little in his hand._
_Chorus Virginum._ G.o.ddess of pleasure, youth and peace, Give them the blessing of increase: And thou, Lucina, that dost hear The vows of those that children bear: Whenas her April hour draws near, Be thou then propitious there.
_Chorus Juvenum._ Far hence be all speech that may anger move: _Sweet words must nourish soft and gentle love_.
_Chorus Omnium._ Live in the love of doves, and having told The raven's years, go hence more ripe than old.
_Nice_, dainty.
_Painful_, painstaking; for the pa.s.sage cp. Catull. _Nupt. Pel. et Thet._ 311-314.
634. TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES.
One night i' th' year, my dearest beauties, come And bring those due drink-offerings to my tomb.
When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise, And there to lick th' effused sacrifice: Though paleness be the livery that I wear, Look ye not wan or colourless for fear.
Trust me, I will not hurt ye, or once show The least grim look, or cast a frown on you: Nor shall the tapers when I'm there burn blue.
This I may do, perhaps, as I glide by, Cast on my girls a glance and loving eye, Or fold mine arms and sigh, because I've lost The world so soon, and in it you the most.
Than these, no fears more on your fancies fall, Though then I smile and speak no words at all.
_Fold mine arms_, cp. "crossing his arms in this sad knot"
(_Tempest_).
635. UPON LOVE.
A crystal vial Cupid brought, Which had a juice in it; Of which who drank, he said no thought Of love he should admit.
I, greedy of the prize, did drink, And emptied soon the gla.s.s; Which burnt me so, that I do think The fire of h.e.l.l it was.
Give me my earthen cups again, The crystal I contemn; Which, though enchas'd with pearls, contain A deadly draught in them.
And thou, O Cupid! come not to My threshold, since I see, For all I have, or else can do, Thou still wilt cozen me.
638. THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN.
Please your Grace, from out your store, Give an alms to one that's poor, That your mickle may have more.
Black I'm grown for want of meat Give me then an ant to eat, Or the cleft ear of a mouse Over-sour'd in drink of souce; Or, sweet lady, reach to me The abdomen of a bee; Or commend a cricket's hip, Or his huckson, to my scrip.
Give for bread a little bit Of a pea that 'gins to chit, And my full thanks take for it.
Flour of fuzz-b.a.l.l.s, that's too good For a man in needihood; But the meal of milldust can Well content a craving man.
Any orts the elves refuse Well will serve the beggar's use.
But if this may seem too much For an alms, then give me such Little bits that nestle there In the prisoner's panier.
So a blessing light upon You and mighty Oberon: That your plenty last till when I return your alms again.
_Mickle_, much.
_Souce_, salt-pickle.
_Huckson_, huckle-bone.
_Chit_, sprout.
_Orts_, sc.r.a.ps of food.
_Prisoner's panier_, the basket which poor prisoners used to hang out of the gaol windows for alms in money or kind.
639. AN END DECREED.
Let's be jocund while we may, All things have an ending day; And when once the work is done, _Fates revolve no flax they've spun_.
_Revolve_, _i.e._, bring back.
640. UPON A CHILD.
Here a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies; Pray be silent, and not stir Th' easy earth that covers her.
641. PAINTING SOMETIMES PERMITTED.
If Nature do deny Colours, let Art supply.
642. FAREWELL FROST, OR WELCOME THE SPRING.
Fled are the frosts, and now the fields appear Re-cloth'd in fresh and verdant diaper.
Thaw'd are the snows, and now the l.u.s.ty spring Gives to each mead a neat enamelling.