Abyd, abyd, thou fair Makyne, A word for ony thing; For all my luve, it fall be thyne, Withouten departing. All hale thy heart for till have myne, Is all my coveting; My fheip quhyle morn till the hours nyne, Robin, thou haft heard fung and fay, << The man that will not when he may, "Be forreft, firth, or fauld." Makyne, the nicht is foft and dry, The wether warm and fair, And the grene wod richt neir-hand by, To walk attowre all where : There may nae janglers us espy, That is in luve contrair; Therin, Makyne, baith you and I Unfeen may mak repair. 83 gė 95 100 Robin, "Robin, that warld is now away, 105 "And quyt brocht till an end. "And nevir again thereto perfay, "Sall it be as thou wend; "For of my pain thou made but play, "I words in vain did spend; "As thou haft done fae fall I fay, "Murn on, I think to mend." Makyne, the hope of all my heil, My heart on thee is fet; "Robin, with thee I will not deal; Makyne went hameward blyth enough, Outowre the holtis hair; XIV. GENTLE HERDSMAN, TELL TO ME. DIALOGUE BETWEEN A PILGRIM AND HERDSMAN. The fcene of this beautiful old ballad is laid near Walfingbam in Norfolk, where was anciently an image of the Virgin Mary, famous over all Europe for the numerous pilgrimages made to it, and the great riches it poffeffed. Erafmus has given a very exact and humorous defcription of the Superftitions practifed there in his time. See his account of the VIRGO PARATHALASSIA, in his colloquy, intitled, PEREGRINATIO RELIGIONIS ERGO. He tells us, the rich offerings in filver, gold, and precious ftones, that were there shewn him, were incredible, there being Scarce a perfon of any note in England, but what fome time or other paid a vifit, or fent a prefent to OUR LADY OF WALSINGHAM. At the diffolution of the monafteries in 1538, this fplendid image, with another from Ipfwich, was carried to Chelsea, and there burnt in the presence of commiffioners; who, we trust, did not burn the jewels and the finery. This poem is printed from a copy in the Editor's folio MS, which had greatly fuffered by the hand of time; but veftiges of feveral of the lines remaining, fome conjectural jupplements have been attempted, which, for greater exactness, are in this one ballad diftinguished by Iralicks. G Entle herdfinan, tell to me, Of curtefy I thee pray, Unto the towne of Walfingham Which is the right and ready way. "Unto *See at the End of this Volume an account of the annual offerings of the Earls of Northumberland. is hard for to be gone; "Unto the towne of Walfingham way "The "And verry crooked are those pathes "For you to find out all alone." Were the miles doubled thrife, Itt were not enough for mine offence; Thy yeares are young, thy face is faire, "Thy witts are weake, thy thoughts are greene; "Time hath not given thee leave, as yett, "For to committ fo great a finne." Yes, herdfman, yes, foe woldft thou fay, I am not what I feeme to bee, My clothes, and fexe doe differ farr: I am a woman, woe is me! Born to greeffe and irksome care. For my beloved, and well-beloved, 15 20 He He was the flower of noble wights, None ever more fincere colde bee; Of comely mien and shape he was, And tenderlye bee loved mee. When thus I faw he loved me well, And grew foe coy and nice to please, As womens lookes are often foe, He might not kiffe, nor hand forfooth, Thus being wearyed with delayes He gott him to a fecrett place, 30 35 40 And there hee dyed without releeffe. And for his fake these weedes I weare, 45. Thus every day I faft and praye, And ever will doe till I dye; And gett me to fome fecrett place, 50 For foe did hee, and so will I. Now, |