This rising rear betok’neth well thy mind;
Those arms are folded for thy Blouzelind:
And well, I trow, our piteous plights agree,
Thee Blouzelinda smites, Buxoma me.

LOB. CL. Ah! Blouzelind, I love thee more by half, Than does their fawns, or cows the new fall'n calf: Wo worth the tongue, may blisters sore it gall, That names Buxoma, Blouzelind withal.

CUD. Hold, witless Lobbin Clout, I thee advise,
Lest blisters sore on thy own tongue arise.
Lo, yonder Cloddipole, the blithsome swain,
The wisest lout of all the neighb'ring plain!
From Cloddipole we learnt to read the skies,
To know when hail will fall, or winds arise!
He taught us erst the heifer's tail to view,
When stuck aloft, that show'rs would strait ensue :
He first that useful secret did explain,

That pricking corns foretold the gath'ring rain:
When swallows fleet soar high and sport in air,
He told us that the welkin would be clear.
Let Cloddipole then hear us twain rehearse,
And praise his sweetheart in alternate verse:
I'll wager this same oaken staff with thee,
That Cloddipole shall give the prize to me.

20

30

LOB. CL. See this tobacco pouch that's lin'd with Made of the skin of sleekest fallow-deer;

Chair,

Ver. 25. Erst, a contraction of ere this; it signi

fies some time ago, or formerly,

This pouch, that's ty'd with tape of reddest hue,
I'll wager, that the prize shall be my due.

CUD. Begin thy carols, then, thou vaunting slouch, Be thine the oaken staff, or mine the pouch. 40

LOB. CL. My Blouzelinda is the blithest lass,
Than primrose sweeter, or the clover-grass.
Fair is the kingcup that in meadow blows,
Fair is the daisie that beside her grows;
Fair is the jelliflow'r, of gardens sweet,
Fair is the marigold, for pottage meet;
But Blozelind's than jelliflow'r more fair,
Than daisie, marigold, or kingcup rare.

CUD. My brown Buxoma is the featest maid
That e'er at wake delightsome gambol play'd;
Clean as young lambkins, or the goose's down,
And like the goldfinch in her Sunday gown.
The witless lamb may sport upon the plain,
The frisking kid delight the gaping swain,
The wanton calf may skip with many a bound,
And my cur Tray play deftest feats around;
But neither lamb, nor kid, nor calf, nor Tray,
Dance like Buxoma on the first of May.

LOB. CL. Sweet is my toil when Blouzelind is near, Of her bereft, 'tis winter all the year.

With her no sultry summer's heat I know;
In winter, when she's nigh, with love I glow.

50

60

Ver. 56.1 Deft, an old word, signifying brisk or nimble.

Volume I.

M

Come, Blouzelinda! ease thy swain's desire,
My summer's shadow, and my winter's fire!

CUD. As with Buxoma once I work'd at hay,
Ev'n noontide labour seem'd an holyday;

And holydays, if haply she were gone,
Like worky days I wish'd would soon be done.
Eftsoons, O sweetheart kind, my love repay,
And all the year shall then be holyday.

70

LOB. CL. As Blouzelinda, in a gamesome mood, Behind a haycock loudly laughing stood, I slily ran, and snatch'd a hasty kiss, She wip'd her lips, nor took it much amiss. Believe me, Cuddy, while I'm bold to say, Her breath was sweeter than the ripen'd hay. CUD. As my Buxoma, in a morning fair, With gentle finger strok'd her milky care, I quaintly stole a kiss; at first, 'tis true, She frown'd, yet after granted one or two. Lobbin, I swear, believe who will my vows, Her breath by far excell'd the breathing cow's. LOB. CL. Leek to the Welch, to Dutchmen butter's Of Irish swains potatoe is the cheer;

80

[dear,

Ver. 69. Eitsoons, from eit, an ancient British word, signifying soon; so that eftsoons is a doubling of the word soon, which is, as it were to say, twice soon, or very soon.

Ver. 79. Quaint has various significations in the ancient English authors. I have used it in this place in the same sense as Chaucer hath done in his Millar's Tale,

As clerkes being full subtle and quaint--(by which he means arch or waggish) and not in that obscene sense wherein he useth it in the line immediately following.

Oats for their feasts the Scottish shepherds grind,
Sweet turnips are the food of Blouzelind:
While she loves turnips, butter I'll despise,
Nor leeks, nor oatmeal, nor potatoe, prize.

CUD. In good roast beef my landlord sticks his knife, The capon fat delights his dainty wife;

Pudding our parson eats, the squire loves hare,
But white-pot thick is my Buxoma's fare.
While she loves white-pot, capon ne'er shall be,
Nor hare, nor beef, nor pudding, food for me.

90

LOB. CL. As once I play'd at Blindman's buff, it hapt About my eyes the towel thick was wrapt:

I miss'd the swains, and seiz❜d on Blouzelind.
True speaks that ancient proverb, "Love is blind."
CUD. As at Hot-cockles once I laid me down,
And felt the weighty hand of many a clown,
Buxoma gave a gentle tap, and I

Quick rose, and read soft mischief in her eye.

100

LOB.CL. On two near elms the slacken'd cord I hung; Now high, now low, my Blouzelinda swung. With the rude wind her rumpled garment rose, And show'd her taper leg and scarlet hose.

CUD. Across the fallen oak the plank I laid, And myself pois'd against the tott'ring maid:

Ver. 83.1 Populus Alcidae gratissima, vitis Iaccho, Formosæ myrtus Veneri, sua laurea Phoebo. Phyllis amat corylos. Illas dum Phillis amabit, Nec myrtus vincet corylos nec laurea Phœbi, &c.

Cay]

Mij

High leapt the plank; adown Buxoma fell;
I spy'd---but faithful sweethearts never tell.

110

LOE. CL. This riddle, Cuddy, if thou can'st explain, This wily riddle puzzles ev'ry swain;

What flow'r is that which bears the Virgin's name, The richest metal joined with the same?

CUD. Answer, thou carle, and judge this riddle right, I'll frankly own thee for a cunning wight; What flow'r is that which royal honour craves, Adjoin the Virgin, † and 'tis strown on graves ? CLOD. Forbear, contending louts, give o'er your An oaken staff each merits for his pains.

[strains;

But see the sunbeams bright to labour warn,
And gild the thatch of Goodman Hodges' barn.
Your herds, for want of water, stand adry,
They're weary of your songs---and so am I.

Ver. 117.

* Marygold.

regum.

† Rosemary.

121

Dic quibus in terris inscripti nomina

Nascantur flores.

VIPG.

Ver. 120.] Et vitula tu dignus et hic.

VIRG.