He said, he had loved her long: She says, maids must kiss no men. Till they do for good and all-- Then with many a pretty oath, Love, that had been long deluded, This song, as we learn from "Percy's Relics," was sung before Queen Elizabeth at Elvetham in Hampshire, as she opened the casement of her gallery window in the morning, by "three excellent musitians, disguised in auncient country attire." The following version of the song is given in England's Helicon : In the merry month of May, In a morn by break of day, Much ado there was, GOD wot, He would love and she would not. She said never man was true, He said, none was false to you, He said he had lov'd her long, She said, love should have no wrong. Coridon would kiss her then, She said, maids must kiss no men, Till they did for good and all: Then she made the shepherd call All the heavens to witness truth: Never lov'd a truer youth. Such as silly shepherds use When they will not love abuse. Love which had been long deluded, Was with kisses sweet concluded. And Phillida with garlands gay, Was made the lady of the May.-N. BRETON. YE LITTLE BIRDS THAT SIT AND SING. From THOMAS HEYWOOD'S "Fairy Maide of the Exchange," 1615. YE little birds that sit and sing And see how Phillis sweetly walks Go, pretty birds, about her bower, Go tell her through your chirping bills, To her is only known my love, Go tune your voices' harmony, Strain loud and sweet, that every note O fly, make haste, see, see she falls Sing round about her rosy bed, WHAT PLEASURE HAVE GREAT PRINCES. From BYRD'S "Songs and Sonnets of Sadness and Pietie," 1588. WHAT pleasure have great princes, More dainty to their choice, And fortune's fate not fearing, Their dealings plain and rightful, All day their flocks each tendeth, For lawyers and their pleading Where conscience judgeth plainly; Oh, happy who thus liveth, To keep him from the cold, WELCOME, WELCOME, DO I SING. WILLIAM BROWNE, born 1590, died 1645. From a MS. copy of his poems in the Landsdowne collection. WELCOME, welcome, do I sing, Far more welcome than the spring, Love that to the voice is near, Welcome, welcome, then I sing, &c. Love, that looks still on your eyes, To benumb our arteries, Shall not want the summer's sun. Love, that still may see your cheeks, 'Tis a fool, if e'er he seeks Other lilies, other roses. Welcome, welcome, then I sing, &c. Love, to whom your soft lip yields, Never, never, shall be missing. Welcome, welcome, then I sing, &c. Love, that question would anew, And a brief of that behold. Welcome, welcome, then I sing, &c. We are indebted to Browne for having preserved in his "Shepherd's Pipe," a curious poem by Occleve. Mr. Warton conceives his works to "have been well known to Milton," and refers to "Britannia's Pastorals" for the assemblage of circumstances in a morning landscape as were brought together more than thirty years afterwards by Milton in a passage of L'Allegro, which has been supposed to serve as the repository of imagery on that subject for all succeeding poets.-ELLIS. INVITATION TO MAY. From THOMAS MORLEY'S Ballads, 1595. The spring clad all in gladness, And to the bagpipe's sound, Fye then! why sit we musing, Say, dainty nymphs, and speak, THE SHEPHERD'S HOLIDAY, JAMES SHIRLEY, born 1596, died 1666. Throw off cares, With your heaven-aspiring airs Help us to sing, While valleys with your echoes ring. Nymphs that dwell within these groves, Crown your golden hair with roses, Foot like fairies on the grass. A game popular in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and peculiar to the month of May. |