But he like a cruel knight spurr'd on, His heart did not relent-a ; For, till he came there, he show'd no fear ; The king (Heaven bless him !) had singular hopes Of him and all his troop-a; The Borderers they, as they met him on the way, None liked him so well as his own colonel, But when there were shows of gunning and blows. For when the Scots' army came within sight, He ran to his tent; they ask'd what he meant ; The colonel sent for him back again, To quarter him in the van-a, But Sir John did swear, he came not there To cure his fear he was sent to the rear, But now there is peace, he's return'd to increase But his lost honour must still lie in the dust; Old Ballad CXLIV THE NUN'S LAMENT FOR PHILIP SPARROW When I remember'd again How my Philip was slain, The tears down hailed; But nothing it avail'd To call Philip again Whom Gib our cat hath slain. Heu, heu, me, That I am woe for thee! Levavi oculos meos in montis, To show me their device This sorrow that I make For Philip Sparrow's sake! And sometimes white bread crumbs; And many times and oft Within my breast soft It would lie and rest. Sometimes he would gasp When he saw a wasp; A fly or a gnat, He would fly at that; And prettily he would pant U Lord, how he would pry Lord, how he would hop And when I said, Phip, Phip, De profundis clamavi By way of exclamation, My little pretty sparrow O cat of churlish kind, I would thou hadst been blind! The leopards savage, The lions in their rage, May they catch thee in their paws, And gnaw thee in their jaws; The dragons with their tongues May they poison thy liver and lungs. Of India the greedy gripes May they tear out all thy tripes; Of Arcady the bears May they pluck away thine ears; The wild wolf Lycaon Bite asunder thy back-bone; Of Ætna the burning hill, That night and day burneth still, Set thy tail in a blaze, That all the world may gaze From Ocean, the great sea, Unto the Isles of Orchadye; To the plain of Salisbury. F. Skelton CXLV TO A BUTTERFLY I've watch'd you now a full half-hour, I know not if you sleep or feed. What joy awaits you, when the breeze This plot of orchard-ground is ours; Here rest your wings when they are weary; Here lodge as in a sanctuary! Come often to us, fear no wrong; Sit near us on the bough! We'll talk of sunshine and of song, And summer days when we were young; Sweet childish days that were as long As twenty days are now. W. Wordsworth CXLVI THE DRAGON OF WANTLEY Old stories tell how Hercules A dragon slew at Lerna, With seven heads and fourteen eyes, But he had a club, this dragon to drub, This dragon had two furious wings, With a sting in his tail as long as a flail, Have you not heard how the Trojan horse That could not with him grapple ; As one would eat an apple. All sorts of cattle this dragon would eat, |