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which was made by Kit Marlow,now at least fifty years ago; and the Milk maids mother fung an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger dayes.

They were old fashioned Poetry, but choicely good, I think much better then that now in fashion in this Critical age. Look yonder,on my word, yonder they be both a milking again: I wil give her the Chub, and perfwade them to fing those two songs to us.

Pifc. God fpeed,good woman, I have been a fishing, and am going to Bleak Hall to my bed, and having caught more fish then wil fup my felf and friend, wil beftow this upon you and your daughter, for I ufe to fel none.

Milkw. Marry God requite you Sir, and we'l eat it cheerfully: wil you drink a draught of red Cows

milk?

Pifc. No,I thank you:but I pray

do

do us a courtefie that shal stand you and your daughter in nothing, and we wil think our felves ftil fomething in your debt; it is but to fing us a Song, that that was fung by you and your daughter, when I last past over this Meadow, about eight or nine dayes fince.

Milk. what Song was it, I pray? was it, Come Shepherds deck your heads: or, As at noon Dulcinarested: or PhiFida flouts me?

Pifc.No, it is none of those: it is a Song that your daughter fung the first part, and you fung the answer to

it.

Milk. OI know it now, I learn'd the first part in my golden age, when I was about the age of my daughter; and the later part, which indeed fits me beft, but two or three years ago; you fhal, God willing, hear them both. Come Maudlin, fing the first part to the Gentlemen with a merrie heart, and Ile fing the second.

The

The Milk maids Song.

Come live with me, and be

my

Love,

And we wil all the pleasures prove That vallies, Groves, or hils, or fields, Or woods and freepie mountains yeelds.

Where we will fit upon the Rocks, And fee the Shepherds feed our flocks, By fhallow Rivers, to whofe falls Mellodious birds fing madrigals.

And I wil make thee beds of Roses, And then a thousand fragrant pofies, A cap of flowers and a Kirtle, Imbroidered all with leaves of Mirtle.

A Gown made of the finest wool Which from our pretty Lambs we pull, Slippers lin'd choicely for the cold, With buckles of the pureft gold.

A belt of ftraw and ivie buds,

With Coral clafps, and Amber ftuds:

And

And if thefe pleasures may
Come live with me, and be

thee move,

my Love.

The Shepherds Swains shal dance and fing
For thy delight each May morning :
If thefe delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me,and be my Love.

Via. Truft me Mafter, it is a choice Song, and sweetly fung by honest Maudlin: Ile bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's Milk maids wish upon her, That he may dye in the Spring, and have good store of flowers ftuck round about her winding sheet.

The Milk maids mothers answer.

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every Shepherds tongue?
Thefe pretty pleasures might me move,
To live with thee,and be thy love.

But time drives flocks from field to fold:
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,

F 2

And

And Philomel becometh dumb,
The Reft complains of cares to come.

The Flowers do fade,and wanton fields
Towayward Winter reckoning yeilds.
A boney tongue,a heart of gall,
Is fancies fpring, but forrows fall.

Thy gowns, thy fhooes,thy beds of Rofes,
Thy Cap,thy Kirtle, and thy Pofies,
Soon break foon wither,foon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reafon rotten.

Thy belt of straw and Ivie buds,
Thy Coral clafps and Amber ftuds,
All thefe in me no means can move
To come to thee,and be thy Love.

But could youth laft,and love ftilbreea,
Had joyes no date, nor age no need;
Then thofe delights my mind might
To live with thee,& be thy love. (move

Pifc. Wel.fung, good woman, I thank you, I'l give you another dish

of

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