_’Twas in the sweet month of May, I walked out to take the air,_ _My Father he died one day, and he left me his son and heir;_ _He left me a good warm house, that wanted only a thatch,_ _A strong oak door to my chamber, that only wanted a latch;_ _He left me a rare old cow, I wish he’d have left me a sow,_ _A cock that in fighting was shy, and a horse with a sharp wall eye, &c._ (_Universal Songster_, 1826, i. 368.) Even Ophelia could not ask, after Arthur sinking so low, “And will he not come again?” J. W. E. _September, 1875._ [So far as possible, to give completeness to our Reprint of _Westminster Drollery_ of 1671-2, and _Merry Drollery, Compleat_, 1670-1691, we now add the Extra Songs belonging to the former work, edition 1674; and to the latter, in its earlier edition, 1661: with their respective title-pages.] _Westminster-Drollery._ Or, A Choice COLLECTION of the Newest SONGS & POEMS BOTH AT Court and Theaters. BY A Person of Quality. _The third Edition, with many more Additions._ LONDON, Printed for _H. Brome_, at the _Gun_ in St. _Paul’s_ Church Yard, near the West End. MDCLXXIV. _ADDITIONAL SONGS_ FROM THE WESTMINSTER-DROLLERY: Edition 1674. [p. 111.] _A Song._ 1. So wretched are the sick of Love, No Herb has vertue to remove The growing ill: But still, The more we Remedies oppose The Feaver more malignant grows. Doubts do but add unto desire, Like Oyl that’s thrown upon the fire, Which serves to make the flame aspire; And not t’ extinguish it: Love has its trembling, and its burning fit. 2. Fruition which the sick propose [p. 112.] To end, and recompence their woes, But turns them o’re To more. And curing one, does but prepare A new, perhaps a greater care. Enjoyment even in the chaste, Pleases, not satisfies the taste, And licens’d Love the worst can fast. Such is the Lovers state, Pining and pleas’d, alike unfortunate.