It were myne efe, to lyve in pese; fo wyll I, yf I can; Wherfore I to the wode wyll go, alone, a banyshed

man.

B.

Though in the wode I undyrftode ye had a paramour,. All this may nought remove my thought, but that I will be your:

And the fhall fynde me soft, and kynde, and courteys every hour;

Glad to fulfyll all that fhe wyll commaunde me, to my

power:

For had ye, lo, an hundred mo, yet wolde I be that

one;

For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you alone.

A.

Myne own dere love, I se the prove that ye be kynde,

and true;

Of mayde, and wyfe, in all my lyfe, the best that ever I knewe.

and glad, be no more fad, the cafe is chaunged

newe;

For it were ruthe, that, for your truthe, ye fholde have caufe to rewe :

Be nat difmayed; whatsoever I fayd to you, whan I

began,

I wyll not to the grene wode go, I am no banyshed

man.

B. Thefe

B.

Thefe tydings be more gladder to me than to be made a

quene,

Yf I were fure they fholde endure: but it is often fene, Whan men wyll breke promyfe, they fpeke the wordes on the fplene :

Ye fhape fome wyle, me to begyle, and stele from me, I wene :

Than were the cafe worfe than it was, and I more wo

begone;

For, in my mynde, of all mankynde I love but you

alone..

B.

Ye shall nat nede further to drede; I will not dyfparage You, (God defende !) fyth you defcend of fo grete a lynage.

Nowe understande, to Weftmarlande, which is myne

herytage,

I wyll you bringe; and with a rynge, by way of ma ryage

I wyll you take, and lady make, as fhortely as I can : Thus have ye won an erlys fon, and not a banyshed

man.

B.

Here may ye fe, that women be, in love, meke, kynde,. and ftable:

Late never man reprove them than,

But, rather, pray God, that we may to them be com→

fortable,

Which fometyme proved fuch as he loved, yf they be

charytable.

For

Forfoth, men wolde that women fholde be meke to

them ech one;

Moche more ought they to God obey, and ferve but hym alone.

HENRY

AND EM M A.

A POE M,

Upon the Model of the NUT-BROWN MAID.

TH

Το CLO E.

HOU, to whose eyes I bend, at whose command
(Though low my voice, though artless be my hand)
I take the fprightly reed, and fing, and play ;
Careless of what the cenfuring world may say:
Bright Cloe, object of my constant vow,
Wilt thou a while unbend thy ferious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains,
And with one heavenly smile o'erpay his pains ?
No longer fhall the Nut-brown Maid be old;
Though fince her youth three hundred years have roll'd:
At thy defire, fhe fhall again be rais'd;

And her reviving charms in lasting verfe be prais'd.
No longer man of woman shall complain,
That he may love, and not be lov'd again:
That we in vain the fickle fex purfue,
Who change the conftant lover for the new.

What

Whatever has been writ, whatever faid,
Of female paffion feign'd, or faith decay'd:
Henceforth fhall in my verse refuted stand,
Be faid to winds, or writ upon the fand.
And, while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love and ever-during flame;
O faireft of the fex! be thou my Mufe:
Deign on my work thy influence to diffuse.
Let me partake the bleffings I rehearse,
And grant me, Love, the just reward of verse!
As Beauty's potent queen, with every grace
That once was Emma's, has adorn'd thy face;
And as her fon has to my bofom dealt
That conftant flame, which faithful Henry felt;
O let the ftory with thy life agree:

Let men once more the bright example see ;
What Emma was to him, be thou to me.
Nor fend me by thy frown from her I love,
Diftant and fad, a banish'd man to rove.
But oh! with pity long-intreated crown

My pains and hopes; and, when thou fay'ft that one
Of all mankind thou lov'ft, oh! think on me alone.

WHERE beauteous Ifis and her husband Tame With mingled waves for ever flow the fame, In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd; Great gifts bestow'd, and great respect receiv'd.

When dreadful Edward with fuccefsful care Led his free Britons to the Gallic war;

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This lord had headed his appointed bands,
In firm allegiance to his king's commands;
And (all due honours faithfully discharg'd)
Had brought back his paternal coat enlarg'd
With a new mark, the witness of his toil,
And no inglorious part of foreign fpoil.
From the loud camp retir'd and noisy court,
In honourable ease and rural fport,

The remnant of his days he fafely past;

Nor found they lagg'd too flow, nor flew too fast.
He made his wifh with his eftate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.

One child he had, a daughter chafte and fair,
His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir.

They call'd her Emina; for the beauteous dame,
Who gave
the Virgin birth, had borne the name:
The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd;
For in the child the mother's charms improv'd.
Yet as, when little round his knees the play'd,
He call'd her oft' in fport his Nut-brown Maid,
The friends and tenants took the fondling word
(As ftill they please, who imitate their lord);
Ufage confirm'd what fancy had begun ;
The mutual terms around the lands were known;
And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one.
As with her ftature, ftill her charms increas'd;
Through all the ifle her beauty was confefs'd.
Oh! what perfections muft that Virgin fhare,
Who faireft is efteem'd, where all are fair!

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