English Songs and Ballads | Page 6

your feet?To our sound,?Whilst we greet,?All this ground,?With his honour and his name?That defends our flocks from blame.
He is great and he is just,?He is ever good, and must?Thus be honoured. Daffodillies,?Roses, pinks, and loved lilies,?Let us fling,?Whilst we sing,?Ever holy,?Ever holy,?Ever honoured, ever young!?Thus great Pan is ever sung.
ASPATIA'S SONG
LAY a garland on my hearse?Of the dismal yew;?Maidens, willow branches bear;?Say, I died true.
My love was false, but I was firm?From my hour of birth.?Upon my buried body lie?Lightly, gentle earth!
_JOHN FLETCHER_
BEAUTY CLEAR AND FAIR
BEAUTY clear and fair,?Where the air?Rather like a perfume dwells;?Where the violet and the rose?Their blue veins and blush disclose,?And come to honour nothing else:
Where to live near?And planted there?Is to live, and still live new;?Where to gain a favour is?More than light, perpetual bliss--?Make me live by serving you!
Dear, again back recall?To this light,?A stranger to himself and all!?Both the wonder and the story?Shall be yours, and eke the glory;?I am your servant, and your thrall.
LET THE BELLS RING, AND LET THE BOYS SING
LET the bells ring, and let the boys sing,?The young lasses skip and play;?Let the cups go round, till round goes the ground,?Our learned old vicar will stay.
Let the pig turn merrily, merrily, ah?And let the fat goose swim;?For verily, verily, verily, oh!?Our vicar this day shall be trim.
The stewed cock shall crow, cock-a-loodle-loo,?A loud cock-a-loodle shall he crow;?The duck and the drake shall swim in a lake?Of onions and claret below.
Our wives shall be neat, to bring in our meat?To thee our most noble adviser;?Our pains shall be great, and bottles shall sweat,?And we ourselves will be wiser.
We'll labour and smirk, we'll kiss and we'll drink,?And tithes shall come thicker and thicker;?We'll fall to our plough, and have children enow,?And thou shalt be learned old vicar.
WEEP NO MORE
WEEP no more, nor sigh, nor groan,?Sorrow calls no time that's gone:?Violets pluck'd, the sweetest rain?Makes not fresh nor grow again.?Trim thy locks, look cheerfully;?Fate's hid ends eyes cannot see.?Joys as winged dreams fly fast,?Why should sadness longer last??Grief is but a wound to woe;?Gentlest fair, mourn, mourn no moe.
PAN
SING his praises that doth keep?Our flocks from harm,?Pan, the father of our sheep;?And arm in arm?Tread we softly in a round,?Whilst the hollow neighbouring ground?Fills the music with her sound.
Pan, O great god Pan, to thee?Thus do we sing!?Thou who keep'st us chaste and free?As the young spring:?Ever be thy honour spoke,?From that place the morn is broke,?To that place day doth unyoke!
GOD LYAEUS
GOD LYAEUS, ever young,?Ever honour'd, ever sung,?Stain'd with blood of lusty grapes,?In a thousand lusty shapes?Dance upon the mazer's brim,?In the crimson liquor swim;?From thy plenteous hand divine?Let a river run with wine:?God of youth, let this day here?Enter neither care nor fear.
A BATTLE-SONG
ARM, arm, arm, arm! the scouts are all come in;?Keep your ranks close, and now your honours win.?Behold from yonder hill the foe appears;?Bows, bills, glaives, arrows, shields, and spears!?Like a dark wood he comes, or tempest pouring;?O view the wings of horse the meadows scouring!?The vanguard marches bravely. Hark, the drums!?Dub, dub!
They meet, they meet, and now the battle comes:?See how the arrows fly?That darken all the sky!?Hark how the trumpets sound!?Hark how the hills rebound--?Tara, tara, tara, tara, tara!
Hark how the horses charge! in, boys! boys, in!?The battle totters; now the wounds begin:?O how they cry!?O how they die!?Room for the valiant Memnon, armed with thunder!?See how he breaks the ranks asunder!?They fly! they fly! Eumenes has the chase,?And brave Polybius makes good his place:?To the plains, to the woods,?To the rocks, to the floods,?They fly for succour. Follow, follow, follow!?Hark how the soldiers hollow!?Hey, hey!
Brave Diodes is dead,?And all his soldiers fled;?The battle 's won, and lost,?That many a life hath cost.
_ANONYMOUS_
MY LADY GREENSLEEVES
ALAS! my love, you do me wrong?To cast me off discourteously;?And I have loved you so long,?Delighting in your company.
Greensleeves was all my joy!?Greensleeves was my delight!?Greensleeves was my heart of gold!?And who but my Lady Greensleeves!
I bought thee petticoats of the best,?The cloth so fine as fine as might be;?I gave thee jewels for thy chest,?And all this cost I spent on thee.?Greensleeves was all my joy!?Greensleeves was my delight!?Greensleeves was my heart of gold!?And who but my Lady Greensleeves!
Thy smock of silk, both fair and white,?With gold embroidered gorgeously;?Thy petticoat of sendal right:?And these I bought thee gladly.?Greensleeves was all my joy!?Greensleeves was my delight!?Greensleeves was my heart of gold!?And who but my Lady Greensleeves!
Greensleeves now farewell! adieu!?God I pray to prosper thee!?For I am still thy lover true:?Come once again and love me!?Greensleeves was all my joy!?Greensleeves was my delight!?Greensleeves was my heart of gold!?And who but my Lady Greensleeves!
_SIR PHILIP SIDNEY_
MY TRUE LOVE
MY true love hath my heart, and I have his,?By just exchange one for another given:?I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;?There never