When all the meat was on the table,

What man of knife or teeth was able
To stay to be intreated?

And this the very reason was,

Before the parson could say grace,
The company was seated.

Now hats fly off, and youths carouse;
Healths first go round, and then the house,
The bride's came thick and thick:
And when 't was nam'd another's health,
Perhaps he made it hers by stealth;
And who could help it, Dick?

On the sudden up they rise and dance;
Then sit again and sigh, and glance:
Then dance again and kiss:

Thus several ways the time did

pass,

Whilst ev'ry woman wished her place,
And every man wished his.

By this time all were stol'n aside
To counsel and undress the bride:
But that he must not know:

But yet 't was thought he guess'd her mind,
And did not mean to stay behind

Above an hour or so.

Note. "This ballad may safely be pronounced his Opus Magnum; indeed, for grace and simplicity it stands unrivalled in the whole compass of ancient and modern poetry." — William Wordsworth.

A Supplement of an Imperfect copy of Verses of Mr. William Shakespeare's

O

NE of her hands one of her cheeks lay under,
Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss,

Which therefore swelled, and seemed to part

asunder,

As angry to be robbed of such a bliss!

The one looked pale and for revenge did long, While t'other blushed, 'cause it had done the wrong.

Out of the bed the other fair hand was

On a green satin quilt, whose perfect white

Looked like a daisy in a field of grass,'

"*

And showed like unmelt snow unto the sight;
There lay this pretty perdue, safe to keep
The rest o' th' body that lay fast asleep.
* Thus far Shakespeare.

Her eyes (and therefore it was night), close laid,
Strove to imprison beauty till the morn:

But yet the doors were of such fine stuff made,
That it broke through, and showed itself in scorn,
Throwing a kind of light about the place;

Which turned to smiles still, as 't came near her face.

Her beams, which some dull men called hair, divided,
Part with her cheeks, part with her lips did sport.
But these, as rude, her breath put by still; some
Wiselier downward sought, but falling short,
Curled back in rings, and seemed to turn again
To bite the part unkindly held them in.

D

OST see how unregarded now
That piece of beauty passes?
There was a time when I did vow
To that alone;

But mark the fate of faces;

The red and white works now no more on me,
Than if it could not charm, or I not see.

And yet the face continues good,

And still I have desires,

And still the self-same flesh and blood,
As apt to melt,

And suffer from those fires:

O, some kind power unriddle where it lies:
Whether my heart be faulty, or her eyes?

She every day her man doth kill,

And I as often die;

Neither her

power then nor my

will

Can questioned be:

What is the mystery?

Sure, beauty's empires, like to greater states,
Have certain periods set, and hidden fates.

T

The Metamorphofis

THE little boy, to show his might and power,
Turn'd lo to a cow, Narcissus to a flower;
Transformed Apollo to a homely swain,

And Jove himself into a golden rain.

These shapes were tolerable, but by the Mass
He's metamorphosed me into an Ass!

H

The Falfe One

AST thou seen the down in the air

When wanton blasts have tossed it?
Or the ship on the sea,

When ruder winds have crossed it?
Hast thou marked the crocodile's weeping,

Or the fox's sleeping?

Or hast viewed the peacock in his pride,

Or the dove by his bride,

When he courts for his lechery?

O, so fickle, O, so vain, O, so false, so false is she!

From The Sad Onc.

A Soldier

AM a man of war and might,

And know thus much, that I can fight,
Whether I am i' th' wrong or right,

Devoutly.

No woman under heaven I fear,

New oaths I can exactly swear,

And forty healths my brain will bear

Most stoutly.