There twenty-four fayre ladyes were And Ellen, the fairest ladye there, And then bespake Childe Waters' sister; But that his bellye it is soe bigg, It is not fit for a little foot-page, That has run throughe mosse and myre, To go into the chamber with any ladye, That weares soe riche attyre. It is more meete for a litle foote-page, That has run throughe mosse and myre, To take his supper upon his knee, And sitt downe by the kitchen fyer. But when they had supped every one, To bedd they tooke theyr waye : He sayd, come hither, my little foot-page, And hearken what I saye. Goe thee downe into yonder towne, And low into the street; The fayrest ladye that thou can finde, Ellen is gone into the towne And low into the streete : The fairest ladye that shee cold find, 1 i. e. fear of defiling. I praye you nowe, good Childe Watèrs, 'He gave her leave, and faire Ellèn Hee sayd, Rise up, my litle foot-page, Up then rose the faire Ellen, And gave his steede corne and haye: Shee leaned her backe to the manger side, Shee leaned her back to the manger side, And that beheard his mother deere, Shee sayd, Rise up, thou Childe Watèrs, For in thy stable is a ghost, Or else some woman laboures of childe, Up then rose Childe Waters soon, And when he came to the stable dore, 1 i. e. essay, attempt. 2 i. e. moaning, bemoaning, &c. She sayd, Lullabye, mine owne deere child, I wold thy father were a king, Peace now, hee said, good faire Ellen, And the bridal and the churching both verses. PHILLIDA AND CORYDON, By Nicholas Breton [b. 1555, d. 1624], a musical writer of pastoral This song won the honour of being commanded a second time, and "highly graced with cheerful acceptance and commendation," by Elizabeth, at an entertainment given to her by the Earl of Hertford. IN the merrie moneth of Maye, When anon by a wood side, Phillida and Corydon. Much adoe there was, god wot; He sayde, hee had lovde her longe : She sayes, maydes must kisse no men, Tyll they doe for good and all Then with manie a prettie othe, Love, that had bene long deluded, LITTLE MUSGRAVE AND LADY BARNARD; FROM an old printed copy, with corrections, in the British Museum. Ritson declared the only genuine copy to be in Dryden's "Collection of Miscellaneous Poems." The Ballad is quoted in many old plays; and it exists, according to Motherwell, under many forms in Scotland. As it fell out on a highe holye daye, When yong men and maides together do goe, Little Musgrave came to the church door; But he had more mind of the fine womèn And some of them were clad in greene, Shee cast an eye on little Musgràve Quoth she, I have loved thee, little Musgrave, Fulle long and manye a daye. So have I loved you, ladye faire, I have a bower at Bucklesford-Bury, If thoult wend thither, my little Musgrave, Quoth hee, I thanke yee, ladye faire, All this beheard a litle foot-page, My lord Barnàrd shall knowe of this, And ever whereas the bridges were broke, Asleep or awake, thou lord Barnàrd, Lo! this same night at Bucklesford-Bury If it be trew, thou litle foote-page, But and it be a lye, thou litle foote-page, On the highest tree in Bucklesford-Bury Rise up, rise up, my merry men all, Then some they whistled, and some they sang, Whenever lord Barnarde's horne it blewe, Methinkes I heare the throstle cocke, Methinkes I heare the jay, Methinkes I heare lord Barnard's horne; I would I were awaye. |