The "Benefactions" still declare

He left the clerk an elbow-chair,
And "Twelve Pence Yearly to Prepare
A Christmas Posset."

Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you,
With too serene a conscience drew
Your easy breath, and slumbered through
The gravest issue;

But we, to whom our age allows
Scarce space to wipe our weary brows,
Look down upon your narrow house,
Old friend, and miss you!

"FAIR AMORET IS GONE ASTRAY.”

WILLIAM CONGREVE,

1670-1729.

AIR Amoret is gone astray,

FAI

Pursue, and seek her, every lover;
I'll tell the signs by which you may
The wandering shepherdess discover.

Coquet and coy at once her air,

Both studied, tho' both seem neglected;
Careless she is, with artful care,

Affecting to seem unaffected.

With skill her eyes dart every glance,

Yet change so soon you'd ne'er suspect them; For she'd persuade they wound by chance, Though certain aim and art direct them.

She likes herself, yet others hates

For that which in herself she prizes;
And, while she laughs at them, forgets

She is the thing that she despises.

UNKNOWN.

ON WOMEN.

From "Wit's Recreations, Augmented with ingenious conceites for the Wittie, and Merrie medecines for the Melancholie. 1640."

WOM

OMEN are books, and men the readers be,
In whom oft times they great
Errata see;
Here sometimes we a blot, there we espy
A leaf misplac'd, at least a line awry;
If they are books, I wish that my wife were
An almanack, to change her every year.

SIR CHARLES SEDLEY, 1639-1701.

PHYLLIS

HYLLIS, men say that all my vows
Are to thy fortune paid;

Alas, my heart he little knows

Who thinks my love a trade.

Were I of all these woods the lord,
One berry from thy hand.

More real pleasure would afford

Than all my large command.

MARTIN PARKER.

THE COUNTRY LASS.

It would be difficult to name many ballads which have had a larger share of popularity than "The Country Lass." It was first printed for the Assigns of Thomas Symcocke, about 1620; and was the composition of Martin Parker, a popular writer of ballads of that time.

To a daintie new note, which if you can hit,
There's another tune will as well fit.

That's the mother beguiles the daughter.

A

LTHOUGH I am a country lass,
A lofty mind I bear-a,

I think myself as good as those

As those that with the chiefest wines

Do bathe their bodies oft

a.

Down, down, derry, derry down,

Heigh down, a down, a down a,
A derry, derry, derry, derry, down,

Heigh down, a down, a derry.