Seeke now all the world throughout,

Thou kenst not clownes from gentlemen;

They are clad in blacke, greene, yellowe, or gray, So far above their own degree

Once in my life Ile do as they,

For Ile have a new cloake about me."

"King Stephen was a worthy peere—
His breeches cost him but a crowne;
He held them sixpence all too deere,
Therefore he called the tailor lowne.
He was a wight of high renowne,

And thou'se but of a low degree-
It 's pride that puts this countrye downe;
Man, take thy old cloake about thee.”

Bell, my wife, she loves not strife,
Yet she will lead me if she can;

And oft to live a quiet life

I'm forced to yield though I be good-man. It's not for a man with a woman to threepe, Unless he first give o'er the plea;

As we began sae will we leave,

And Ile take my old cloake about me.

ANONYMOUS

A Contented Mind.

I WEIGH not fortune's frown or smile;
I joy not much in earthly joys;
I seek not state, I seek not style;
I am not fond of fancy's toys.
I rest so pleased with what I have,
I wish no more, no more I crave.

I quake not at the thunder's crack;
I tremble not at noise of war;

I swound not at the news of wrack,
I shrink not at a blazing star;
I fear not loss, I hope not gain;
I envy none, I none disdain.

I see ambition never pleased;

I see some Tantals starved in store;
I see gold's dropsy seldom eased;

I see even Midas gape for more;
I neither want, nor yet abound-
Enough 's a feast, content is crowned.

I feign not friendship where I hate;
I fawn not on the great (in show);
I prize, I praise a mean estate,

Neither too lofty nor too low:
This, this is all my choice, my cheer-

A mind content, a conscience clear.

JOSHUA SYLVESTER

Love me Little, Love me Long.

LOVE me little, love me long!

Is the burden of my song:
Love that is too hot and strong

Burneth soon to waste.

Still I would not have thee cold

Not too backward, nor too bold;
Love that lasteth till 't is old

Fadeth not in haste.

Love me little, love me long!
Is the burden of my song.

If thou lovest me too much,
'T will not prove as true a touch;
Love me little more than such,-

For I fear the end.

I'm with little well content,

And a little from thee sent
Is enough, with true intent
To be steadfast, friend.

Say thou lovest me, while thou live
I to thee my love will give,
Never dreaming to deceive

While that life endures;
Nay, and after death, in sooth,
I to thee will keep my truth,

As now when in my May of youth:
This my love assures.

Constant love is moderate ever,
And it will through life persever;
Give me that with true endeavor,-

I will it restore.

A suit of durance let it be,

For all weathers, —that for me,—
For the land or for the sea:
Lasting evermore.

Winter's cold or summer's heat,
Autumn's tempests on it beat;
It can never know defeat,
Never can rebel;

Such the love that I would gain,
Such the love, I tell thee plain,
Thou must give, or woo in vain:
So to thee-farewell!

ANONYMOUS.

Good Ale.

I CAN not eat but little meat

My stomach is not good;
But sure, I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold—

I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare;
Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old!

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;

A little bread shall do me stead-
Much bread I not desire.

No frost or snow, nor wind, I trow,

Can hurt me if I wold-

I am so wrapt, and thorowly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare;

Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, Whether it be new or old!

And Tyb, my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till you may see
The tears run down her cheek;
Then doth she trowl to me the bowl,
Even as a malt-worm should;
And saith, "Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."

Back and side go bare, go bare;
Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old!

Now let them drink till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;

They shall not miss to have the bliss

Good ale doth bring men to;

And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily trowled,

God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old!

Back and side go bare, go bare;

Both foot and hand go cold;

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old!

JOHN STILL.

Exequy.

ACCEPT, thou shrine of my dead saint,

Instead of dirges, this complaint;

And for sweet flowers to crown thy hearse

Receive a strew of weeping verse

From thy grieved friend, whom thou might'st see

Quite melted into tears for thee.

Dear loss! since thy untimely fate,

My task hath been to meditate

On thee, on thee; thou art the book,

The library whereon I look,

Though almost blind; for thee (loved clay)

I languish out, not live, the day,

Using no other exercise

But what I practice with mine eyes,