6* ^ ^ «.^ %"^-o^V %/^..^'^ 0^\../.. v..-/ •* OB '■ . -^^^ \ :/' v- <^ 'J- A t/' \V ^^ V -.. .^vv V" .p .-«■ -' " m^s,' ^1:. .* _._.. :. c'» o^^f^^^ , . ^z' '^- * ^. ^%„..^-. A a\' ^ft?g^^;??»^f3»g^^;s^;^@<^^^ ^^-^p^g>^g:^g2^^S>g^a^Sf SJ This large paper edition, consisting of 125 copies, on Holland paper, all of which are numbered, was printed in the month of October, 1884. This copy is No ..^. . (J^.(X£'^cZ^^ yi^ against ittelancl)alg. Adalmar. — "An Antidote! Restore him whom thy poisons have laid low." . . . Isbrand. — "A very good and thirsty melody; What say you to it, my Com-t Poet?" Wolfram. — *' Good melody ! when I am sick o' mornings, With a horn-spoon tinkling my porridge pot, 'T is a brave ballad." T, I. Beddoes^ Death's Jesi Book, Acts IV. and V. An Antidote against MELANCHOLY Compounded of Choice Toems, Jovial Songs, {Menv "Ballads, and IV iffy Tarodies. Moft pleasant and diverting to read. ^r ^EW-Y(JIiK. Printed by T. L. D. V. for PRATT MANUFACT- URING COMPANY, and are to he had at their shop in "Broadway, V^o. 46, near 'Bowling Green. CHRISTMAS, MDCCCLXXXIV. T/f hi 1^ Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, But moody and dull melancholy (Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair), And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life ? Shakspere — Comedy of Errors, Act V.^Sc. Copyright , 1884, by Pratt Manufacturing CoMPAN^ To the READER COUTiTGOUS T{G<^JiT>6Ti f ^^T^fg^ g^^HY grateful reception of our for- S% mer collection hath induced us ^1 m to a second essay of the same nature; and, as we are confident it will be found in no wise inferiour to the for- mer in worth, so we assure ourselves it shall at least equal it in its fortunate acceptation. It being our design rather to make such a collection as shall please all Complexions, Ages, and Constitutions of either Sexes, than to gratify our vanity by a display of learning, there will be found here poems of all kinds, pastoral, lyric, convivial, grave, and gay, but none to ofFend any. To gather these poems, for many of which we have gone to the original sources, has been a long under- taking; but if only this little book, which we now present to thee, shall make good its claim to being An Antidote Against Melancholy, though to but one of its readers, wc shall feel that our labour has been sufficiently rewarded. We have of purpose kept the number of these, our selections, wathin small compass, prefer- ring to serve up these delicates by frugal messes, as aiming at thy satisfaction, not satiety. But our design being more upon thy judgment than thy patience, more to delight thee than to detain thee by a tedious (and we fear seldom-read) epistle, we will draw the curtain that shuts from thy view what we have prepared; first, however, acknowledging our obligation to Henry Holt & Co., Charles Scrib- ner's Sons, and White, Stokes & Allen for courtesies extended during the com- pilation of this work. Finally, there remains but the pleasant duty of return- ing grateful thanks for thy patronage in the past, and of wishing thee a Merrie Christmas. Thy much obliged, and Most obedient servants, The "Publishers. Cast care away, let sorrow cease, A fig for melancholy ! Let 's laugh and sing, or, if you please, We '11 frolic with sweet Dolly. Old English Song. CORIDON'S SONG. From " Rosalynde : Euphues Golden Legacie, rp„ _,...„ T ^r^rv h T. L. Gent. London, isg2." It was this 1 HOMAS i^ODGt, Pastoral Romance that afforded Shakspere 1557^" ^^2 5? the hints for his exquisite Comedy of '■'As You Like It." ABLITHE and bonny country -lass, Heigh ho, bonny lass; Sate sighing on the tender grass. And weeping said : Will none come woo me ? A smicker boy, a Hther swain. Heigh ho, a smicker swain; That in his love was wanton fain. With smiling looks straight came unto her. When as the wanton wench espied. Heigh ho, when she espied The means to make herself a bride, She simpered smooth like bonny-bell. The swain that saw her squint-eyed kind, Heigh ho, squint-eyed kind; His arms about her body twined, And said: Fair lass, how fare ye, well? .12 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. The country kit said : Well, forsooth, Heigh ho, well, forsooth; But that I have a longing tooth, A longing tooth that makes me cry ; Alas (said he), what gars thy grief? Heigh ho, what gars thy grief? A wound (quoth she) without relief, I fear a maid that I shall die. If that be all, the Shepherd said, Heigh ho, the Shepherd said ; I '11 make thee wive it, gentle maid, And so recure thy maladie : Hereon they kiss'd with many an oath, Heigh ho, many an oath; And 'fore god Pan did plight their troth. So to the church apace they hie. And God send every pretty peate, Heigh ho, the pretty peate. That fears to die of this conceit, So kind a friend to help at last: Then maids shall never long again. Heigh ho, to long again ; When they find ease for such a pain, Thus my roundelay is past, ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL V. 7j— THE SHEPHERD'S DAFFODIL. The following stanzas, by Michael Drayton, are found iti one of his Pastorals, bearing the Michael Drayton, whimsical title of " idea. The Shepheard's ir5'J— l6';i. Garland, fas hiofied in nine Ec legs. Rowland's Sacrifice to the Nine Muses," 1593. This song occurs in the Ninth Eclogue. Batte. — /^"^ ORBO as thou cam'st this way Vjr By yonder little hill, Or as thou through the fields did'st stray, Saw'st thou my Daffodil? She 's in a frock of Lincoln green, Which colour likes her sight, And never hath her beauty seen But through a veil of white. Than roses richer to behold That trim up lovers' bowers, The pansy and the marigold. Though Phoebus' paramours. GoRBO. — Thou well describ'st the Daffodil ; It is not full an hour Since by the spring near yonder hill I saw that lovely flower. —14 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. Batte. — Yet my fair flower thou did'st not meet Nor news of her did'st bring, And yet my Daffodil 's more sweet Than that by yonder spring. GoRBO. — I saw a shepherd that does keep In yonder field of HHes, Was making (as he fed his sheep) A wreath of daifodilHes. Batte. — Yet, Gorbo^ thou delud'st me still; My flower thou did'st not see, For, know, my pretty Daffodil Is worn of none but me. To show itself but near her feet No lily is so bold, Except to shade her from the heat Or keep her from the cold. GoRBO. — Through yonder vale as I did pass, Descending from the hill, I met a smirking bonny lass; They call her Daffodil. Whose presence as along she went The pretty flowers did greet, As though their heads they downward bent With homage to her feet, ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 15— And all the shepherds that were nigh, From top of every hill Unto the valleys loud did cry, "There goes sweet DaffodiV Batte. — Aye, gentle shepherd, now with joy Thou all my flocks dost fill; That 's she alone, kind shepherd's boy; Let us to Daffodil. ^i6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. LULLABY SONG. From " The Pleasant Comodie of Patient Gris- ^^ sill." 1603. By Thomas Dekker, Henry U NCERTAIN. Chettle, and William Haughton. GOLDEN slumbers kiss your eyes, Smiles awake you when you rise; Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, And I will sing a lullaby. Care is heavy, therefore sleep you, You are care, and care must keep you; Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry. And I will sing a lullaby. Rock them, rock them, lullaby. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 17- A DITTY. Quoted by George Puitenha})i hi his "Arte of English Poesy, is8q," as an instance of^Epi- Qttj Putttp 'sT-nvpv 7no7ic,or t fie Love Burdeti." In the "Arcadia, MK raiLli^ oiu^ii-y, JJqS," however, these lines appear as a sofi- 1 5 54~ 1 5""* fii^t by the omission of the refrain as here, arid the addition of six lines ; the final one being the refrain. MY true love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange one to the other given : I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, There never was a better bargain driven: My true love hath my heart, and I have his. His heart in me keeps him and me in one. My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides He loves my heart, for once it was his own, I cherish his because in me it abides : My true love hath my heart, and I have his. •I 8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, DRINKING SONG. This excelletit old Drinking So7!g;, which Warton JOHN StIT T ^ terms " the first chanso7i a hoire of any merit , ' in our language," is Jrom "A ryght pithy, I543~^"^7* pleasaunt, afid merie Cotnedie : hitytuled Gajuvier Gnrtons Nedle." Lofidon, IS75- I CANNOT eat but little meat, My stomach is not good; But sure, 1 think that I can drink With him that wears a hood. Tho' 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 ajid hand go cold y 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. ' Crab-apple. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. ig— No frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow, Can hurt me if I wold,^ I am so wrapt, and throwly^ lapi Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, etc. And Tib, my wife, that as her life Loveth well good ale to seek, Full oft drinks she, till ye may see The tears run down her cheek : Then doth she troul to me the bow). Even as a maltworm should, And saith, " Sweetheart, I took my part Of this jolly good ale and old." Back and side go bare, etc. 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 troul'd, God save the lives of them and their wives, Whether they be young or old. Back and side go bare, etc. Willed. ^ Thoroughly. —20 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST. These fine moral stanzas ivrrc origitially iti- TaMES Shirley tended fij' a solemn fiineral song in " The ^ Cc\f\—i f\f\f\ ' Contention of Ajax and Ulysses.'' i6sg. It ^ 5""^ ^ OOD. ^^ f rt/V/ to have been afiivoriic song with King Charles II. THE glories of our birth and state Are shadows, not substantial things There is no armour against fate ; Death lays his icy hands on kings : Sceptre and crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade. Some men with swords may reap the field, And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; But their strong nerves at last must yield. They tame but one another still. Early or late, They, stoop to fate, And must give up their murm'ring breath When the pale captive creeps to death. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 21— The laurel withers on your brow, Then boast no more your mighty deeds, Upon Death's purple altar now See where the victor victim bleeds; All heads must come To the cold tomb : Only the actions of the just Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. -22 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. A GENTLEMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL. From ' * Old- World Idylls, 18S3. " Mr. Dobson Attct^tm nriRcrvM belongs to that recc7ii class of English poets AUSTIN DOBSON, -who have reproduced the old French forms of Boni 1 040. verse in the rondeau, virelai, villanelle, bal- lade, etc. HE lived in that past Georgian day, When men were less inclined to say That "Time is Gold," and overlay With toil their pleasure; He held some land, and dwelt thereon, — Where, I forget, — the house is gone; His Christian name, I think, was John, — His surname, Leisure. Reynolds has painted him, — a face Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace. Fresh-coloured, frank, with ne'er a trace Of trouble shaded; The eyes are blue, the hair is drest In plainest w^ay, — one hand is prest Deep in a flapped canary vest. With buds brocaded. ANTIDOTE AGATNST MELANCHOLY. 23- He wears a brown old Brunswick coat, With silver buttons, — round his throat, A soft cravat; — in all you note An elder fashion. A strangeness, which, to us who shme In shapely hats, — whose coats combine All harmonies of hue and line. Inspires compassion. He Hved so long ago, you see ! Men were untravelled then, but we, Like Ariel, post o'er land and sea With careless parting; He found it quite enough for him To smoke his pipe in " garden trim," And watch, about the fish-tank's brim. The swallows darting. He liked the well- wheel's creaking tongue,— He liked the thrush that stopped and sung, He liked the drone of flies among His netted peaches. He liked to watch the sunlight fall Athwart his ivied orchard wall ; Or pause to catch the cuckoo's call Beyond the beeches. His were the times of Paint and Patch, And yet no Ranelagh could match The sober doves that round his thatch Spread tails and sidled; ^24 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. He liked their ruffling, puffed content, — For him their drowsy wheehngs meant More than a Mall of Beaux that bent Or Belles that bridled. Not that, in truth, when Hfe began He shunned the flutter of the fan ; He, too, had maybe " pinked his man " In Beauty's quarrel; But now his " fervent youth " had flown Where lost things go ; and he was grown As staid and slow-paced as his own Old liunter, Sorrel. Yet still he loved the chase, and held That no composer's score excelled The merry horn, when Sweetlip swelled Its jovial riot; But most his measured words of praise Caressed the angler's easy ways, — His idly meditative days, — His rustic diet. Not that his ''meditating" rose Beyond a sunny summer doze; He never troubled his repose With fruitless prying; But held, as law for high and low, What God withholds no man can know. And smiled away inquiry so. Without replying. ANTW OTE A GAINST MELANCHOL Y. 25- We read -— alas, how much we read ! — The jumbled strifes of creed and creed With endless controversies feed Our groaning tables; His books — and they sufficed him — were Cotton's " Montaigne," " The Grave" of Blair, A "Walton" — much the worse for wear, And "^sop's Fables." One more,— "The Bible." Not that he Had searched its page as deep as we; No sophistries could make him see Its slender credit; It may be that he could not count The sires and sons to Jesse's fount, — He liked the " Sermon on the Mount," — And more, he read it. Once he had loved, but failed to wed, A red-cheeked lass, who long was dead; His ways were far too slow, he said. To quite forget her; And still, when time had turned him gray The earhest hawthorn buds in May Would find his lingering feet astray, Where first he met her. "/;? Cxlo Qiiies'' heads the stone On Leisure's grave,— now little known, A tangle of wild-rose has grown So thick across it ; 4 —26 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. The " Benefactions " still declare He left the clerk an elbow-chair, And " Twelve Pence Yearly to Prepare A Christmas Posset." Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you, With too serene a conscience drew Your easy breath, and slumbered through The gravest issue ; But we, to whom our age allows Scarce space to wipe our weary brows, Look down upon your narrow house, Old friend, and miss you ! ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 27— FAIR AMORET IS GONE ASTRAY." William Congreve, 1 6 70- 1 729. FAIR Amoret is gone astray, Pursue, and seek her, every lover ; I '11 tell the signs by which you may The wandering shepherdess discover. Coquet and coy at once her air, Both studied, tho' both seem neglected; Careless she is, with artful care, Affecting to seem unaffected. With skill her eyes dart every glance. Yet change so soon you 'd ne'er suspect them ; For she 'd persuade they wound by chance, Though certain aim and art direct them. She Hkes herself, yet others hates For that which in herself she prizes ; And, while she laughs at them, forgets She is the thing that she despises. •28 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. ON WOMEN. Front " Wifs Recreations, Augmented with Unknown. ingeiuous conceites /or the IVittie, and Merrie medecines for the Melancholic. J 640." WOMEN are books, and men the readers be, In whom oft times they great Errata see ; Here sometimes we a blot, there we espy A leaf misplac'd, at least a line awry ; If they are books, I wish that my wife were An almanack, to change her every year. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 29— SONG. Macaulay speaks of Sir Charles Sedley as " one of the most brilliant and profligate wits of i/ie Sir Charles Sedley, Restoration." He was the author of three 1639—1701. plays, " The Mulberry Gardeft," 1668 ; "An- tony and Cleopatra," 1677 ; afid"Bellainira," 16S7. PHYLLIS, men say that all my vows Are to thy fortune paid ; Alas, my heart he little knows Who thinks my love a trade. Were I of all these woods the lord. One berry from thy hand More real pleasure would afford Than all my large command. —JO ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. THE COUNTRY LASS. It would be difficult to name many ballads ■which have had a larger share of popularity than " The Country Lass." It was first Martin Parker. printed for the Assigns of Thomas Symcocke, about 1620; and was the composition 0/ Martin Parker, a popular writer 0/ ballads o/that titne. To a daintie new note, which if you can hit, There 's another tune will as well fit. That 's the mother beguiles the daughter. ALTHOUGH I am a country lass, A lofty mind I bear — a, I think myself as good as those That gay apparel wear — a, My coat is made of homely gray, Yet is my skin as soft — a, As those that with the chiefest wines Do bathe their bodies oft — a. Down, down, derry, derry down, Heigh dotun, a down, a down a, A derry, derry, derry, derry, down, Heigh down, a down, a derry. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 31— What, though I keep my father's sheep ? A thing that must be done — a, A garland of the fairest flowers Shall shroud me from the sun — a, And when I see them feeding be, Where grass and flowers spring — a. Close by a crystal fountain side, I sit me down, and sing — a. Dow7iy down, derry^ deny dowJi, etc. Dame Nature crowns us with delight, Surpassing court or city. We pleasures take from morn to night. In sports and pastimes pretty : Your city dames in coaches ride Abroad for recreation, We country lasses hate their pride, And keep the country fashion. Dow 71^ dowft, derry, derry dowJt, etc. Your city wives lead wanton lives, And if they come i' th' country. They are so proud, that each one strives For to outbrave our gentry. We country lasses homely be ; For seat nor wall we strive not ; We are content with our degree ; Our debtors we deprive not. Down, dowji, derry, derry dowti, etc, I care not for a fan or mask. When Titan's heat reflecteth, A homely hat is all I ask. Which well my face protecteth ; .j2 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. Yet am I in my country guise, Esteemed lass as pretty, As those that every day devise New shapes in court and city. Down, down, derry, derry doivn, etc. In every season of the year I undergo my labour, — No shower, nor wind, at all I fear, My limbs I do not favour ; If summer's heat my beauty stain, It makes me ne'er the sicker, Sith I can wash it off again With a cup of Christmas liquor. Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. SECOND PART. At Christmas time, in mirth and glee, I dance with young men neatly. And who i' th' city like to me. Shall pleasure taste completely? No sport, but pride and luxury I' th' city can be found then, But bounteous hospitality r th' country doth abound then. Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. V th' Spring my labour yields delight To walk i' th' merry morning. When Flora is (to please my sight) The ground with flowers adorning ; ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 33- With merry lads to make the hay I go, and do not grumble, My work doth seem to be but play. When with young men I tumble. Down, down, derry, derry dowft, etc. The lark and thrush from briar to bush Do leap, and skip and sing — a. And all is then to welcome in The long and look'd for Spring — a; We fear not Cupid's arrows keen. Dame Venus we defy — a, Diana is our honour'd queen. And her we magnify — a. Dowji, down, derry, derry down, etc. That which your city damsels scorn, We hold our chiefest jewel, Without, to work at hay and corn. Within, to bake and brew well ; To keep the dairy decently, And all things clean and neatly. Your city minions do defy, — Their scorn we weigh not greatly. Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. When we together a milking go With pails upon our heads — a. And walking over woods and fields. Where grass and flowers spread — a, 5 —od ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. -34 In honest pleasure we delight, Which makes our labour sweet — a, And mirth exceeds on every side When lads and lassies meet — a. Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. Then do not scorn a country lass, Though she be plain and meanly. Who takes a country wench to wife (That goeth neat and cleanly) Is better sped, than if he wed A fine one from the city; For there they are so nicely bred. They must not work for pity. Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. I speak not this to that intent (As some may well conjecture), As though to wooing I were bent, — No, I ne'er learn'd Love's lecture; But what I sing is in defence Of all plain country lasses. Whose modest, honest innocence All city girls surpasses. Down, down, derry, derry down. Heigh down, a down, a down a, A derry, derry, derry, derry down, Heigh down, a down, a derry. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 35— WINIFREDA. " This beautiful address to conjugal love" says Bishop Percy, " a subject too much neglected by the libertine Muses, was, I believe, first printed in a vohime of '■MisceUa7ieotis Poems, Unknown. by Several hands, published by D. Lewis, 172b, 8vo'." The authorship is unknowfi, though it has been ascribed, probably errone- ously, to Gilbert Cooper. AWAY ; let nought to love displeasing, My Winifreda, move your care ; Let nought delay the heavenly blessing, Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear. What though no grants of royal donors With pompous titles grace our blood; We '11 shine in more substantial honors, And to be noble we '11 be good. Our name, while virtue thus we tender, Will sweetly sound where e'er 't is spoke ; And all the great ones they shall wonder How they respect such little folk. What though from fortune's lavish bounty No mighty treasures we possess; We '11 find within our pittance plenty. And be content without excess. -36 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. Still shall each returning season Sufficient for our wishes give; For we will live a life of reason, And that 's the only life to live. Through youth and age in love excelling, We '11 hand in hand together tread ; Sweet-smiling peace shall crown our dwelling, And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. How should I love the pretty creatures, While round my knees they fondly clung; To see them look their mother's features, To hear them lisp their mother's tongue. And when with envy time transported, Shall think to rob us of our joys. You '11 in your girls again be courted, And I '11 go wooing in my boys. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 37— THE VICAR OF BRAY. Unknown. Nichols, in his Select Poems, says that the Song of the Vicar of Bray " zuas written by a soldier in Colonel Fuller's troop of Dragoons, in the reign of George I." IN good King Charles's golden days, When loyalty no harm meant, A zealous high-church-man I was, And so I got preferment. To teach my flock I never miss'd, Kings are by God appointed; And damn'd are those that do resist, Or touch the Lord's Anointed. A7id this is law, I will maintain, Until my dying day, sir. That whatsoever king shall reign, 1 7/ be the Vicar of Bray, sir. When Royal James obtain'd the crown, And popery came in fashion. The penal laws I hooted down, And read the Declaration : -38 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. The Church of Rome I found would fit Full well my constitution; And had become a Jesuit, But for the Revolution. And this is law, etc. When William was our King declar'd, To ease the nation's grievance, With this new wind about I steer'd And swore to him allegiance: Old principles I did revoke, Set conscience at a distance; Passive obedience was a joke, A jest was non-resistance. And this is law, etc. When gracious Anne became our queen. The Church of England's glory, Another face of things was seen, And I became a tory! Occasional conformists base, I damn'd their moderation ; And thought the church in danger was. By such prevarication. Atid this is law, etc. When George in pudding-time came o'er, And moderate men looked big, sir, I turn'd a cat-in-pan once more. And so became a whig, sir, ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 39— And thus preferment I procur'd From our new faiths-defender; And almost ev'ry day abjur'd The Pope and the Pretender. And this is law., etc. Th' illustrious house of Hanover, And Protestant succession ; To these I do allegiance swear — While they can keep possession : For in my faith and loyalty, I never more will faulter, And George my lawful king shall be - Until the times do alter. And this is law, I will maintain.. Until my dying day., sir., That whatsoever king shall reign, I 'II be the Vicar of Bray, sir. -40 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. MY GRANDMOTHER. (suggested by a picture by MR. ROMNEY.) From '■'London Lyrics. 1S62.'" Mr. Locker FRTrnTTRTrK- T nrvFR '^ "''^ "f ^^^'-' "^°^^ delightful of the English i^ REDERICK i^OCKER, writers of " vers de socidUr arid his poems rJorn Io2I. ^„^y ^^ read with pleasure, for his gnyety is always sweet and genial. THIS relative of mine Was she seventy and nine When she died ? By the canvas may be seen How she looked at seventeen, — As a bride. Beneath a summer tree As she sits, her reverie Has a charm; Her ringlets are in taste, — What an arm ! and what a waist For an arm ! In bridal coronet, Lace, ribbons, and coquette Falbala; Were Romney's limning true. What a lucky dog were you. Grandpapa ! ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 41- Her lips are sweet as love, — They are parting ! Do they move ? Are they dumb ? — Her eyes are blue, and beam Beseechingly, and seem To say, " Come." What funny fancy slips From atween ttiese cherry lips ? Whisper me, Sweet deity, in paint, What canon says I may n't Marry thee ? That good-for-nothing Time Has a confidence sublime ! When I first Saw this lady, in my youth, Her winters had, forsooth. Done their worst. Her locks (as white as snow) Once shamed the swarthy crow. By-and-by, That fowl's avenging sprite Set his cloven foot for spite In her eye. Her rounded form was lean, And her silk was bombazine : — Well I wot. With her needles would she sit, And for hours would she knit, — Would she not ? -42 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. Ah, perishable clay ! Her charms had dropt away One by one. But if she heaved a sigh With a burthen, it was "Thy Will be done." In travail, as in tears. With the fardel of her years Overprest, — In mercy was she borne Where the weary ones and worn Are at rest. I 'm fain to meet you there, — If as witching as you were, Grandmamma ! This nether world agrees That the better it must please Grandpapa. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 43— O NANCY WILT THOU GO WITH ME ? Thejollorvifig very lovely song is the composition of Bishop Percy, the -well-^ioivn editor of ike Reliques of A ncient English Poetry. Burns, ivriting of this song, rejnarks. It is "per/taps 1 728-1 81 1 . the most beautiful ballad in the English lan- guage." Thomas Percy, O NANCY, wilt thou go with me, Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town? Can silent glens have charms for thee, The lowly cot and russet gown ? No longer drest in silken sheen, No longer deck'd with jewels rare, Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene, Where thou vvert fairest of the fair ? O Nancy ! when thou 'rt far away. Wilt thou not cast a wish behind ? Say, canst thou face the parching ray. Nor shrink before the wintry wind ? O, can that soft and gentle mien Extremes of hardships learn to bear. Nor sad regret each courtly scene, Where thou wert fairest of the fair? —44 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. O Nancy, canst thou love so true, Through perils keen with me to go, Or when thy swain mishap shall rue. To share with him the pang of woe ? Say, should disease or pain befall. Wilt thou assume the nurse's care Nor wistful those gay scenes recall, Where thou wert fairest of the fair? And when at last thy love shall die. Wilt thou receive his parting breath ? Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh, And cheer with smiles the bed of death ? And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear, ^y^ Nor then regret those scenes so gay Where thou wert fairest of the fair? ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 45- A PARODY. Rev. R. H. Barham, 1 788-1845. T/te Rev. Charles Wolfe's immortal Ode, " The Burial of Sir Joh}i Moore," was first pub- lisJied anonymously in " Currick's Morning Post" (Ireland), ift iSij ; and though it at once became widely popular, its authorship long remained the stcbject of controversy. A inong the numero2cs claimants to the au- thorship was a certaift soi-disant " Doctor," a veterinary surgeon of the name of Mar- shall ; and it was to expose afid ridicide his pretensions that the following excellent parody was written by the Rev. R. H. Barham. *' Doctor" Marshall was more remarkable for convivial than literary tastes. NOT a SOU had he got, not a guinea or note, And he looked confoundedly flurried, As he bolted away without paying his shot, And the landlady after him hurried. We saw him again at dead of night, When home from the club returning, We '' twigg'd " the Doctor beneath the light Of the gas-lamp brilliantly burning. All bare, and exposed to the midnight dews, Reclined in the gutter we found him. And he look'd like a gentleman taking a snooze. With his Marshall cloak around him. —46 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. The Doctor 's as drunk as the d ," we said, And we managed a shutter to borrow ; We raised him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head Would consumedly ache on the morrow. We bore him home, and we put him to bed, And we told his wife and his daughter To give him, next morning, a couple of red Herrings, with soda water. Loudly they talk'd of his money that 's gone, And his lady began to upbraid him ; But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on 'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him. We tuck'd him in, and had hardly done, When, beneath the window calling. We heard the rough voice of a son-of-a-gun Of a watchman, " One o'clock," bawling. Slowly and sadly we all walk'd down From his room in the uppermost story ; A rushlight we placed on the cold hearth-stone. And we left him alone in his glory. Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter lionores. — Virgil. I wrote the verses, . . claimed them — he told stories. — Thomas Ingoldsby. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 47— THE COUNTRY WEDDING. Unknown. From " RUson's EfigUsh Songs," 1783. WELL met, pretty nymph, says a jolly young swain, To a lovely young shepherdess crossing the plain; Why so much in haste? (Now the month it was May) Shall I venture to ask you, fair maiden, which way ? Then strait to this question the nymph did reply, With a smile on her look, and a leer on her eye, I came from the village, and homeward I go ; And now, gentle shepherd, pray why would you know ? I hope, pretty maid, you wont take it amiss, If I tell you the reason of asking you this ; I would see you safe home (the swain was in love), Of such a companion if you would approve. Your offer, kind shepherd, is civil I own, But see no great danger in going alone; Nor yet can I hinder, the road being free For one as another, for you as for me. —48 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. No danger in going alone, it is true, But yet a companion is pleasanter, too ; And if you could like (now the swain he took heart) Such a sweetheart as me, we never would part. ! that 's a long word, said the shepherdess then ; 1 've often heard say, there 's no minding you men : You '11 say and unsay, and you '11 flatter, 't is true ; Then leave a young maiden, the first thing you do. O, judge not so harshly, the shepherd replied; To prove what I say, I will make you my bride; To-morrow the parson (well said, little swain) Shall join both our hands, and make one of us twain. Then what the nymph answer'd to this, is not said ; The very next morn, to be sure, they were wed. Sing hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle down. Now when shall we see such a wedding in town ! ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 4g— ON CHRISTMAS EVE. This poem, ilhistrative of old Christmas ctis- T?/^T)T7T>T> TTt-DDTz-i' tpms uftd superstitions, is selected from the KOBERT DERRICK, .. Hesperides " of Robert Herrick, first pub- I59I-IO74. lis hed in 1648. COME bring with a noise, My merry, merry boys, The Christmas log to the firing; While my good dame, she Bids ye all be free, And drink to your heart's desiring. With the last year's brand ^ Light the new block, and For good success in his spending. On your psalteries play, That sweet luck may Come while the log is a teending.^ Drink now the strong beer. Cut the Avhite loaf here. The while the meat is a shredding For the rare mince-pie, And the plums standing by, To fill the paste that 's a kneading. ^ A portion of the log used to be preserved until the next year, with which to light the new block, and the omission to do so was deemed unlucky. ^ Kindline. -so ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. TO THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET. Charles Coivden Clarke relates how durmg a visit paid by Keais atid himself to Leigh Hunt, December 30, 1S16, the host proposed to Keats Leigh Hunt, " tJie challenge of ivriting then, there, atid to 1 784-181^0. time," a sonnet " On the Grasshopper and the Cricket." The following sonnet, ami that on the opposite page, were the result of their friendly strife. GREEN little vaulter in the sunny grass, Catching your heart up at the feel of June, Sole voice that 's heard amidst the lazy noon. When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; And you, warm little housekeeper, who class With those who think the candles come too soon. Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune Nick the glad silent moments as they pass; Oh, sweet and tiny cousins, that belong, One to the fields, the other to the hearth. Both have your sunshine; both though small are strong At your clear hearts; and both were sent on earth To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song : In doors and out, summer and winter, Mirth. ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 51— ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET. In this trial Keats zuou as to time ; '■^ but" Mr. J T