CL.

[From W. Wager's play, called 'The longer thou livest, the more foole thou art,' 4to, Lond.]

The white dove sat on the castle wall, I bend my bow and shoot her I shall; I put her in my glove both feathers and all; I laid my bridle upon the shelf, If you will any more, sing it yourself.

CLI.

Elsie Marley is grown so fine, She won't get up to serve the swine, But lies in bed till eight or nine, And surely she does take her time.

And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?

The wife who sells the barley, honey; She won't get up to serve her swine, And do you ken Elsie Marley, honey?

[Elsie Marley is said to have been a merry alewife who lived near Chester, and the remainder of this song relating to her will be found in the 'Chester Garland,' 12mo, n.d. The first four lines have become favourites in the nursery.]

CLII.

London bridge is broken down, Dance o'er my lady lee; London bridge is broken down, With a gay lady.

How shall we build it up again?

Dance o'er my lady lee; How shall we build it up again?

With a gay lady.

Silver and gold will be stole away, Dance o'er my lady lee; Silver and gold will be stole away, With a gay lady.

Build it up again with iron and steel, Dance o'er my lady lee; Build it up with iron and steel, With a gay lady.

Iron and steel will bend and bow, Dance o'er my lady lee; Iron and steel will bend and bow, With a gay lady.

Build it up with wood and clay, Dance o'er my lady lee; Build it up with wood and clay, With a gay lady.

Wood and clay will wash away, Dance o'er my lady lee; Wood and clay will wash away, With a gay lady.

Build it up with stone so strong, Dance o'er my lady lee; Huzza! 'twill last for ages long, With a gay lady.

CLIII.

Old Father of the Pye, I cannot sing, my lips are dry; But when my lips are very well wet, Then I can sing with the Heigh go Bet!

[This appears to be an old hunting song. _Go bet_ is a very ancient sporting phrase, equivalent to _go along_. It occurs in Chaucer, Leg. Dido, 288.]

CLIV.

[Part of this is in a song called 'Jockey's Lamentation,' in the 'Pills to Purge Melancholy,' 1719, vol. v, p. 317.]

Tom he was a piper's son, He learn'd to play when he was young, But all the tunes that he could play, Was, "Over the hills and far away;"

Over the hills, and a great way off, And the wind will blow my top-knot off.

Now Tom with his pipe made such a noise, That he pleas'd both the girls and boys, And they stopp'd to hear him play, "Over the hills and far away."

Tom with his pipe did play with such skill, That those who heard him could never keep still; Whenever they heard they began for to dance, Even pigs on their hind legs would after him prance.

As Dolly was milking her cow one day, Tom took out his pipe and began for to play; So Doll and the cow danced "the Cheshire round,"

Till the pail was broke, and the milk ran on the ground.

He met old dame Trot with a basket of eggs, He used his pipe, and she used her legs; She danced about till the eggs were all broke, She began for to fret, but he laughed at the joke.

He saw a cross fellow was beating an a.s.s, Heavy laden with pots, pans, dishes, and gla.s.s; He took out his pipe and played them a tune, And the jacka.s.s's load was lightened full soon.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CLV.

Jacky, come give me thy fiddle, If ever thou mean to thrive: Nay; I'll not give my fiddle To any man alive.

If I should give my fiddle, They'll think that I'm gone mad; For many a joyful day My fiddle and I have had.

CLVI.

[The following lines are part of an old song, the whole of which may be found in 'Deuteromelia,' 1609, and also in MS.

Additional, 5336, fol. 5.]

Of all the gay birds that e'er I did see, The owl is the fairest by far to me; For all the day long she sits on a tree, And when the night comes away flies she.

CLVII.

I love sixpence, pretty little sixpence, I love sixpence better than my life; I spent a penny of it, I spent another, And took fourpence home to my wife.

Oh, my little fourpence, pretty little fourpence, I love fourpence better than my life; I spent a penny of it, I spent another, And I took twopence home to my wife.

Oh, my little twopence, my pretty little twopence, I love twopence better than my life; I spent a penny of it, I spent another, And I took nothing home to my wife.

Oh, my little nothing, my pretty little nothing, What will nothing buy for my wife?

I have nothing, I spend nothing, I love nothing better than my wife.

CLVIII.

Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring, Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free, And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!

Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose, Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose; Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free, With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!