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Trust me truely, that I shall dey

Soon after ye be gone;

For in my myude, of al mankynde,
I love but you alone.

MAN.

Yf that ye went, ye shulde repent;
For in the forest now

I have purveid me of a maide,
Whom I love more than you.

Another fayrer than e'er ye were ;
I dare it well avowe:

And of you bothe, eche should be wrothe
Wyth other, as I trowe.

It were myn efe, to lyve in pese :
So wyl I, yf I can :
Wherefore I to the wode wyl go,

Alone, a banishyd man.

WOMAN.

Though in the wode, I understode,

Ye had a paramour;

All this may nought remove my thought,
But that I will be your.
And the fhall fynde me soft and kynde,
And courteis every hour,

Glad to fulfylle all that she wylle

Commaunde me, to my pow'r.

For had ye loo, an hundred moo;
Yet wolde I be that one:

For in my mynde, of all mankynde,
I love but you alone.

MAN.

Myne own dere love, I fee the prove,
That ye be kynde and trewe;
Of mayde and wyfe, in all my lyf,
The best that ever I knew.

Be merry and glad ; be no more fad;
The cafe is changed newe;

For it were ruthe, that for your trouth,
Ye fhulde have cause to rewe.

Be not difmayed; whatsoever I fay'd
To you when I began :

I wyl not to

the grene wode go;

I am no banishyd man.

WOMAN.

Theis tidings be more glad to me,

Than to be made a quene:

Yf I were fure, they should endure:
But it is often feen,
When men wyl breke promife, they fpeke
The wordis on the fplene.

Ye fhape fome wyle, me to begyle,
And ftele fro me, I wenę.

Then were the cafe wurs than it was;
And I more woo begon:

For in my minde, of al mankynde,
I love but you alone.

MAN.

Ye fhall not nede further to drede:

I wyl not disparage

You. God defende; fith you defcende
Of fo grete a lynage.

Now understande, to Westmerlande,
Whiche is my herytage,

I wyl you bringe; and with a rynge,
By way of maryage

I wyl you take, and lady make,
As fhortly as I can.

Thus have ye wone an erlie's fon,
And not a banishyd man.

HENRY AND

EMMA,

A

POEM,

Upon the model of the NUT-BROWN MAID.

Το CLO E.

HOU, to whofe eyes I bend; at whofe command,

Too oft voice, the artles be my hand)

I take the sprightly reed, and fing and play;
Careless of what the cens'ring world may say:
Bright Cloe, object of my constant vow,
Wilt thou a while unbend thy serious brow?
Wilt thou with pleasure hear thy lover's strains,
And with one heav'nly fmile o'erpay his pains?

No longer shall the NUT-BROWN MAID be old;
Tho' fince her youth three hundred years have roll'd.
At thy defire, fhe fhall again be rais'd;

And her reviving charms in lasting verse be prais'd.
No longer man of woman shall complain,
That he may love, and not be lov'd again :
That we in vain the fickle sex pursue,
Who change the conftant lover for the new.
Whatever has been writ, whatever faid
Of female paffion feign'd, or faith decay'd;
Henceforth fhall in my verse refuted stand,
Be faid to winds, or writ upon the fand.
And while my notes to future times proclaim
Unconquer'd love, and ever-during fame;
O fairest of the fex! be thou my Muse;
Deign on my work thy influence to diffufe,
Let me partake the bleffings I rehearse,
And grant me, love, the just reward of verse.

As beauty's potent queen, with ev'ry grace
That once was Emma's, has adorn'd thy face;
And as her fon has to my bofom dealt
That conftant flame, which faithful Henry felt;
O let the story with thy life agree;

Let me once more the bright example fee;
What Emma was to him, be thou to me.
Nor fend me by thy frown from her I love,
Distant and fad, a banish'd man to rove.
But oh with pity long intreated crown

My pains and hopes; when thou say'st that one

Of all mankind thou lov'ft; oh! think on me alone.

}

WHERE beauteous Ifis and her husband Tame

With mingled waves for ever flow the fame,
In times of yore an ancient baron liv'd;
Great gifts beftow'd, and great respect receiv'd.
When dreadful Edward with fuccessful care
Led his free Britons to the Gallic war;
This lord had headed his appointed bands,
In firm allegiance to his king's commands;
And (all due honours faithfully discharg'd)
Had brought back his paternal coat enlarg'd
With a new mark, the witness of his toil,
And no inglorious part of foreign spoil.

From the loud camp retir'd, and noify court,
In honourable ease and rural sport,

The remnant of his days he fafely past;
Nor found they lagg'd too low, nor flew too fast.
He made his with with his eftate comply,
Joyful to live, yet not afraid to die.

One child he had, a daughter, chafte and fair,
His age's comfort, and his fortune's heir.
They call'd her Emma: for the beauteous dame
Who gave the virgin birth, had born the name.
The name th' indulgent father doubly lov'd;
For in the child the mother's charms improv'd.
Yet as when little round his knees she play'd;
He call'd her oft in sport his Nut-brown Maid:
The friends and tenants took the fondling word ;
As still they please, who imitate their lord:
Usage confirm'd what fancy had begun:
The mutual terms around the land were known;
And Emma and the Nut-brown Maid were one.

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