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 meIt 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 yeares 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, Lobe 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 Not too backward, nor too bold; Fadeth not in haste. Love me little, love me long! If thou lovest me too much, For I fear the end. I'm with little well content, And a little from thee sent Is enough, with true intent Say thou lovest me, while thou live Constant love is moderate ever, Give me that with true endeavor,— I will it restore. A suit of durance let it be, For all weathers,—that for me,— For the land or for the sea: Winter's cold or summer's heat, Such the love that I would gain, ANONYMOUS. Good Ale. I CAN not eat but little meat- I am nothing a-cold— I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare; Both foot and hand go cold; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old! I love no roast but a nut-brown toast, A little bread shall do me stead- No frost or snow, nor wind, I trow, I am so wrapt, and thorowly lapt Both foot and hand go cold; But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old! And Tyb, my wife, that as her life |