never a dele] never a bit. than] then. in fere] in company together. rede I can] counsel I know. part with] share with. tho] those. hele] health. yede] went. on the splene] that is, in haste. Anonymous. 16th Cent. 26. As ye came from the Holy Land AS ye came from the holy land Of Walsinghame, Met you not with my true love By the way as you came? How should I know your true love, That have met many a one As I came from the holy land, That have come, that have gone? She is neither white nor brown, But as the heavens fair; There is none hath her form divine In the earth or the air. Such a one did I meet, good sir, Such an angelic face, Who like a nymph, like a queen, did appear In her gait, in her grace. She hath left me here alone All alone, as unknown, Who sometime did me lead with herself, And me loved as her own. What 's the cause that she leaves you alone And a new way doth take, That sometime did love you as her own, And her joy did you make? I have loved her all my youth, But now am old, as you see: Love likes not the falling fruit, Nor the withered tree. Know that Love is a careless child, And forgets promise past: He is blind, he is deaf when he list, And in faith never fast. His desire is a dureless content, And a trustless joy; He is won with a world of despair, And is lost with a toy. Of womenkind such indeed is the love, Or the word love abused, Under which many childish desires And conceits are excused. But true love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning, Never sick, never dead, never cold, From itself never turning. Anonymous. 16th Cent. (?) 27. The Lover in Winter Plaineth for the Spring O WESTERN wind, when wilt thou blow That the small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my arms And I in my bed again! Anonymous. 16th Cent. 28. Balow BALOW, my babe, lie still and sleep! It grieves me sore to see thee weep. Wouldst thou be quiet I'se be glad, Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: Balow my boy, thy mother's joy, Thy father breeds me great annoy-- Balow, la-low! When he began to court my love, And with his sugred words me move, His faynings false and flattering cheer To me that time did not appear: But now I see most cruellye He cares ne for my babe nor me-- Balow, la-low! Lie still, my darling, sleep awhile, And when thou wak'st thoo'le sweetly smile: But smile not as thy father did, To cozen maids: nay, God forbid! But yet I fear thou wilt go near Thy father's heart and face to bear-- Balow, la-low! I cannot choose but ever will Be loving to thy father still; Where'er he go, where'er he ride, My love with him doth still abide; In weal or woe, where'er he go, My heart shall ne'er depart him fro-- Balow, la-low!