THOMAS HEYWOOD.

(1575?-1650?)

These are songs in the drama of the Rape of Lucrece, 1608 (acted 1605), accessible in the Mermaid edition of Heywood's Best Plays, or in the collected edition of his Dramatic Works (in six volumes, London, 1874).

PACK CLOUDS AWAY.

PACK clouds away, and welcome day,
With night we banish sorrow;

Sweet air, blow soft; mount, lark, aloft,
To give my love good-morrow.
Wings from the wind to please her mind,
Notes from the lark I'll borrow:
Bird, prune thy wing; nightingale, sing,
To give my love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow,

Notes from them all I'll borrow.

Wake, from thy nest, robin redbreast,
Sing, birds, in every furrow;
And from each bill let music shrill
Give my fair love good-morrow.
Blackbird and thrush in every bush,
Stare, linnet, and cock-sparrow,
You pretty elves, amongst yourselves,
Sing my fair love good-morrow.
To give my love good-morrow,
Sing, birds, in every furrow.

And was not that

Some ominous fowl
The bat, the night-

Crow, or screech Owl?
To these I hear

The wild wolf howl
In this black night

That seems to scowl.

All these my black-
Book shall enroll;
For hark! still, still

The bell doth toll

For some but now
Departing soul.

THOMAS DEKKER.

(1570?-1641.)

The first two songs are from the Shoemaker's Holiday, acted 1599. The next two occur in the Pleasant Comedy of Patient Grissell, acted 1599, which was only written in part by Dekker, and possibly they are not by Dekker. The music of the first and fourth is given in Chappell's Old English Popular Music, and in Hullah's Golden Treasury Song Book. "The Gifts of Fortune and Cupid" is found in the Sun's Darling, a Moral Masque, by Ford and Dekker, acted 1624, which however is probably an adaptation of Dekker's Phaeton, a play of much earlier date. Dekker probably wrote the song. Dekker's Dramatic Works were collected into four volumes in 1873; they were also edited by Mr. Bullen in 1887.

TROLL THE BOWL!

COLD'S the wind, and wet's the rain,

Saint Hugh be our good speed!

Ill is the weather that bringeth no gain,
Nor helps good hearts in need.

Troll the bowl, the jolly nut-brown bowl,
And here, kind mate, to thee!

Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul,
And down it merrily.

Down-a-down, hey, down-a-down,

Hey derry derry down-a-down!
Ho! well done, to me let come,
Ring compass, gentle joy!

Troll the bowl, the nut-brown bowl,

And here kind, &c. (as often as there be men to

drink). At last, when all have drunk, this verse.

0,

Cold's the wind, and wet 's the rain,
Saint Hugh be our good speed!
Ill is the weather that bringeth no gain,
Nor helps good hearts in need.

THE MERRY MONTH OF MAY.

THE month of May, the merry month of May,

So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green!

O, and then did I unto my true love say,

Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my summer's queen.

Now the nightingale, the pretty nightingale,
The sweetest singer in all the forest quire,

Entreats thee, sweet Peggy, to hear thy true love's tale;
Lo, yonder she sitteth, her breast against a brier.

But O, I spy the cuckoo, the cuckoo, the cuckoo;
See where she sitteth; come away, my joy:
Come away, I prithee, I do not like the cuckoo
Should sing where my Peggy and I kiss and toy.

O, the month of May, the merry month of May,
So frolic, so gay, and so green, so green, so green;
And then did I unto my true love say,

Sweet Peg, thou shalt be my summer's queen.

CONTENT.

ART thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers?

O sweet Content!

Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed?
O Punishment!

Dost laugh to see how fools are vexed
To add to golden numbers golden numbers?
O sweet Content, O sweet, O sweet Content!

Work apace, apace, apace, apace;
Honest labour bears a lovely face.

Then hey noney, noney; hey noney, noney.

Canst drink the waters of the crispèd spring?
O sweet Content!

Swim'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears?
O Punishment!

Then he that patiently Want's burden bears
No burden bears, but is a king, a king.

O sweet Content, O sweet, O sweet Content!

Work apace, apace, &c.

GOLD

LULLABY.

OLDEN slumbers kiss your eyes,
Smiles awake you when you rise.

Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby.

Rock them, rock them, lullaby.

Care is heavy, therefore sleep you.

You are care, and care must keep you.

Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry,

And I will sing a lullaby,

Rock them, rock them, lullaby.

THE GIFTS OF FORTUNE AND CUPID.

Fortune.

BE

a merchant, I will freight thee

With all store that time is bought for.

Cupid. Be a lover, I will wait thee

With success in life most sought for. Fortune. Be enamoured on bright honour,

And thy greatness shall shine glorious. Cupid. Chastity, if thou smile on her,

Shall grow servile, thou victorious. Fortune. Be a warrior, conquest ever

Shall triumphantly renown thee.

Cupid. Be a courtier, beauty never

Shall but with her duty crown thee.
Fortune. Fortune's wheel is thine, depose me;

I'm thy slave, thy power hath bound me.
Cupid. Cupid's shafts are thine, dispose me;
Love loves love; thy graces wound me.
Live, reign! pity is fame's jewel;
We obey; O, be not cruel!

Both.

ROBERT DEVEREUX, EARL OF ESSEX.

(1567-1601.)

"A PASSION OF MY LORD OF ESSEX."

From Ashm. MS. 781. In Grosart's edition of Essex in vol. iv. of the Miscellanies of the Fuller Worthies' Library. It is said to have been inclosed in a letter to the queen from Ireland, in 1599.

HAPPY were he could finish forth his fate

In some unhaunted desert, most obscure

From all societies, from love and hate

Of worldly folk; then might he sleep secure; Then wake again, and ever give God praise,

Content with hips and haws and bramble-berry;