_If at this time I am derided_ 9 _In ~Celia~ a question did arise_ 80 _In Eighty-eight, ere I was born_ 38 _Let not, sweet saint, let not these eyes offend you_ 92 _List, you Nobles, and attend_ 20 _My Mother hath sold away her Cock_ 43 _Never was humane soule so overgrown_ 17 _No Gypsie nor no Blackamore_ 88 _Nor Love, nor Fate dare I accuse_ 4 _Oh fire, fire, fire, where?_ 33 _On the twelfth day of December_ 78 _One night the great ~Apollo~, pleas’d with ~Ben~_ 5 _Shall I think, because some clouds_ 15 _She’s not the fairest of her name_ 99 _The Chandler grew neer his end_ 72 _There is not halfe so warme a fire_ 61 _This day inlarges every narrow mind_ 48 _’Tis late and cold, stir up the fire_ 100 _’Tis not how witty, nor how free_ 98 _Trust no more a wanton Wh—_ 90 _Uds bodykins, Chill work no more_ 57 _We read of Kings, and Gods that kindly took_ 83 _What ill luck had I, silly maid that I am_ 84 _When first the magick of thine eye_ 8 _When ~James~ in Scotland first began_ 70 AN ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY: Made up in PILLS. Compounded of _Witty Ballads_, _Jovial Songs_, and _Merry Catches_. _These witty Poems though some time [they] may seem to halt on crutches,_ _Yet they’l all merrily please you for your Charge, which not much is._ Printed by _Mer. Melancholicus_, to be sold in _London_ and _Westminster_, 1661. [Aprill, 18.] EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION TO THE ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 1661. _Adalmar._—“An Antidote! Restore him whom thy poisons have laid low.” ... _Isbrand._—“A very good and thirsty melody; What say you to it, my Court Poet?” _Wolfram._—“Good melody! When I am sick o’ mornings, With a horn-spoon tinkling my porridge pot, ’Tis a brave ballad.” (_T. L. Beddoes: Death’s Jest Book, Acts_ iv. & v.)