Yet can thy humble roof maintain a quire
Of singing crickets by thy fire;

And the brisk mouse may feast herself with crumbs,
Till that the green-eyed kitling comes;
Then to her cabin bless'd she can escape

The sudden danger of a rape.

And thus thy little well kept stock doth prove
Wealth cannot make a life, but love.

Nor art thou so close-handed, but canst spend,
Counsel concurring with the end,

As well as spare; still conning o'er this theme,
To shun the first and last extreme.

Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach,
Or to exceed thy tether's reach;

But to live round, and close, and wisely true
To thine ownself, and known to few.
Thus let thy rural sanctuary be

Elysium to thy wife and thee;

There to disport yourselves with golden measure;
For seldom use commends the pleasure.
Live, and live bless'd, thrice happy pair! let
breath,

But lost to one, be the' other's death;
And as there is one love, one faith, one troth;
Be so one death, one grave to both :

Till when, in such assurance live, ye may
Nor fear nor wish your dying day.

HERRICK.

ODE TO MR. ANTHONY STAFFORD.

COME, spur away!

I have no patience for a longer stay,

But must go down

And leave the changeable noise of this great town;

I will the country see,

Where old Simplicity,
Though hid in gray,
Doth look more gay

Than Foppery in plush and scarlet clad,
Farewell, you city wits, that are

Almost at civil war!

[mad.

'Tis time that I grow wise when all the world grows More of my days

I will not spend to gain an idiot's praise:

Or to make sport

For some slight puny of the inns of court.

Then, worthy Stafford, say,

How shall we spend the day,

With what delights

Shorten the nights,

When from this tumult we are got secure?

Where Mirth with all her freedom goes,
Yet shall no finger lose,

[is pure.

Where every word is thought, and every thought

There, from the tree,

We'll cherries pluck,and pick the strawberry;

And every day

Go see the wholesome country girls make hay; Whose brown has lovelier grace

Than any painted face

That I do know

Hyde Park can show ;

Where I had rather gain a kiss than meet
(Though some of them in greater state
Might court my love with plate)

[Street.

The beauties of the Cheap, and wives of Lombard

But think upon

Some other pleasures; these to me are none.

Why do I prate

Of women, that are things against my fate?
I never mean to wed

That torture to my bed.

My Muse is she

My love shall be.

Let clowns get wealth and heirs!-when I am gone, And the great bugbear, grisly Death,

Shall take this idle breath,

If I a poem leave, that poem is my son.

Of this no more

We'll rather taste the bright Pomona's store:

No fruit shall scape

Our palates, from the damson to the grape.

Then full, we'll seek a shade,

And hear what music's made;
How Philomel

Her tale doth tell,

And how the other birds do fill the quire;

The thrush and blackbird lend their throats,
Warbling melodious notes.

We will all sports enjoy, which others but desire.

Ours is the sky,

[fly.

Where at what fowl we please our hawk shall

Nor will we spare

To hunt the crafty fox or timorous hare;
But let our hounds run loose

In any ground they'll choose:
The buck shall fall,

The stag and all:

Our pleasures must from their own warrants be;
For to my Muse, if not to me,
I'm sure all game is free;

Heaven,earth, are all but parts of her great royalty.

And when we mean

To taste of Bacchus' blessings now and then,

And drink by stealth

A cup or two to noble Barkley's health,
I'll take my pipe and try
The Phrygian melody,

Which he that hears

Lets through his ears

A madness to distemper all the brain.
Then I another pipe will take,

And Doric music make

To civilize with graver notes our wits again.

RANDOLPH.

CORINNA'S GOING A MAYING*.

GET up, get up for shame; the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the God unshorn: See how Aurora throws her fair

Fresh-quilted colours through the air:

The ceremony of going a Maying and the May festivities were once of great notoriety; though now almost in disuse, or but faintly shadowed in the lower orders of people: they were observed by royalty even. Stowe, quoting Hall, gives an account of Henry the Eighth's riding a Maying, with his queen, Catherine, to the high ground, on Shooter's fill, accompanied by a train of the nobility.

Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see

The dew bespangling herb and tree:

Each flower has wept, and bowed towards the east,

Above an hour since; yet you not dress'd;

Nay not so much as out of bed;

When all the birds have mattins said,
And sung their thankful hymns: 'tis sin,
Nay profanation to keep in;

When as a thousand virgins on this day,
Spring sooner than the lark to fetch in May!

Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth like the spring time fresh and green,
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown or hair:
Fear not, the leaves will strew

Gems in abundance upon you:

Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept:
Come and receive them, while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night,
And Titan on the eastern hill

Retires himself, or else stands still

Till you come forth.—Wash, dress, be brief in praying;

Few beads are best when once we go a Maying!

Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimmed with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough,

Or branch; each porch, each door, ere this,
An ark, a tabernacle is