I LOTHE that I did love, In youth that I thought swete, Me thinkes they are not mete. My lustes they do me leave, And tract of time begins to weave For age with steling steps, Hath clawde me with his crowch, 6 And lusty Youthe' away he leapes, As there had bene none such. My muse doth not delight 5 10 Me, as she did before: My hand and pen are not in plight, 15 For Reason me denies, 'All' youthly idle rime; And day by day to me she cries, The wrinkles in my brow, 20 The furrowes in my face Ver. 6, be. PC. [printed copy in 1557.] V. 10, crowch per haps should be clouch, clutch, grasp. V. 11, life away she. PC. V. 18, this. PC. Say, Limping age will lodge' him now, The harbenger of death, To me I se him ride, The cough, the cold, the gasping breath, A pikeax and a spade, And eke a shrowding shete, Me thinkes I hear the clarke, That knoles the carefull knell, 6 And bids me leave my wearye' warke, Ere nature me compell. My kepers knit the knot, That youth doth laugh to scorne, 6 Of me that shall bee cleane' forgot, As I had ne'er' been borne. Thus must I youth geve up, Whose badge I long did weare: 25 30 35 40 V. 23, sic ed. 1583; 'tis hedge in ed. 1557. hath caught him. MS. V. 30, wyndynge-sheete. MS. V. 34, bell. MS. wofull. PC. V. 38, did. PC. V. 35, V. 39, clene shal be. Pc. V. 40, not. PC. * Alluding perhaps to Eccles. xii. 3.' To them I yelde the wanton cup, That better may it beare. Lo here the bared skull; By whose bald signe I know, That stouping age away shall pull 'What' youthful yeres did sow. For Beautie with her band, 45 These croked cares had wrought, 50 And shipped me into the lande, A III. Jephthah Judge of Israel. In Shakspeare's Hamlet, act ii. sc. 7, the hero of the Play takes occasion to banter Polonius with some scraps of an old ballad, which has never appeared yet in any collection for which reason, as it is but short, it will not perhaps be unacceptable to the reader; who will also be diverted with the pleasant absurdities of the composition. VOL. I. K It was retrieved from utter oblivion by a lady, who wrote it down from memory as she had formerly heard it sung by her father. I am indebted for it to the friendship of Mr. Steevens. It has been said that the original ballad, in black-letter, is among Anthony à Wood's Collection, in the Ashmolean Museum. But, upon application lately made, the volume which contained the song was missing, so that it can only now be given as in the former edition. The banter of Hamlet is as follows: "Hamlet. 'O Jephtha, Judge of Israel,' what a treasure hadst thou! Polonius. What a treasure had he, my lord? Ham. Why, 'One faire daughter, and no more, The which he loved passing well.' Pol. Still on my daughter. Ham. Am not I i' th' right, old Jephtha? Pol. If you call me Jephtha, my lord; I have a daughter, that I love passing well. Ham. Nay, that follows not. Pol. What follows then, my lord? Ham. Why, As by lot, God wot;' and then, you know, 'It came to passe, As most like it was.' chanson will shew you more.” The first row of the pious Edit. 1793, vol. xv. p. 133. HAVE you not heard these many years ago, He had one only daughter and no mo, The which he loved passing well: Off his house, when he shoud return agen. 20 It came to pass, the wars was o'er, And he returnd with victory; His dear and only daughter first of all She did play On tabret and pipe, Full many a stripe, With note so high, For joy that her father is come so nigh. But when he saw his daughter dear He wrung his hands, and tore his hair, And cryed out most piteously; Oh! it's thou, said he, That have brought me 25 330 35 Low, |