THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.

Old songs have rarely, if ever, been modernized so successfully as the foregoing one of "The Queen's old Courtier," and "The Fine old English Gentleman," is no unworthy representative. Popular though it was, thirty or forty years ago, it is not easily met with now; on which account we hope we may be excused for adding it here.

'LL sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate,

And who kept up his old mansion, at a bountiful old rate; With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at his gate, Like a fine old English gentleman, all of the olden time.

His hall so old was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows, And swords, and good old bucklers, that had stood against old

foes;

'T was there" his worship" held his state in doublet and trunk hose,

And quaffed his cup of good old Sack to warm his good old

nose;

Like a fine old English gentleman, etc.

When winter's cold brought frost and snow, he opened house to all;

And though three score and ten his years, he featly led the

ball;

Nor was the houseless wanderer e'er driven from his hall,
For, while he feasted all the great, he ne'er forgot the small;
Like a fine old English gentleman, etc.

But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll swiftly by;

And autumn's falling leaves proclaimed the old man he must

die!

He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life's latest sigh; While a heavy stillness reign'd around, and tears dimm'd every

eye.

For this fine old English gentleman, etc.

Now surely this is better far than all the new parade
Of theatres and fancy balls, " At Home," and masquerade;
And much more economical, when all the bills are paid;
Then leave your new vagaries off, and take up the old trade
Of a fine old English gentleman, etc.

OLDEN LOVE-MAKING.

NICHOLAS BReton,

1542-1626?

Nicholas Breton was a writer of some fame in the reign of Elizabeth. He is mentioned with great respect by Meres in his second part of "Wit's Commonwealth," 1598; and is alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Scornful Lady," act ii.

IN Upon the mountain rocks;

N time of yore, when shepherds dwelt

And simple people never felt

The pain of lovers' mocks;
But little birds would carry tales
"Twixt Susan and her sweeting;
And all the dainty nightingales
Did sing at lovers' meeting;
Then might you see what looks did pass
Where shepherds did assemble;
And where the life of true love was

When hearts could not dissemble.

Then yea and nay was thought an oath
That was not to be doubted;

And when it came to faith and troth
We were not to be flouted.

Then did they talk of curds and cream,
Of butter, cheese, and milk;

There was no speech of sunny beam,

Nor of the golden silk.
Then for a gift a row of pins,

A purse, a pair of knives,
Was all the way that love begins,
And so the shepherd wives.

But now we have so much ado,
And are so sore aggrieved,
That when we go about to woo
We cannot be believed.

Such choice of jewels, rings, and chains,
That may but favour move;
And such intolerable pains

Ere one can hit on love,
That if I still shall bide this life
'Twixt love and deadly hate,
I will go learn the country life,
Or leave the lover's state.

IN THE GLOAMING.

C. S. CALVERLEY,

1831-1884.

From "Fly Leaves. Ninth Edition. London, 1883."

N the gloaming to be roaming, where the crested waves are foaming,

IN

And the shy mermaidens combing locks that ripple to

their feet;

When the gloaming is, I never made the ghost of an endeavour To discover-but whatever were the hour, it would be sweet.

"To their feet," I say, for Leech's sketch indisputably teaches That the mermaids of our beaches do not end in ugly tails, Nor have homes among the corals; but are shod with neat

An

balmorals,

arrangement no one quarrels with, as many might with scales.

Sweet to roam beneath a shady cliff, of course with some young lady,

Lalage, Neæra, Haidee, or Elaine, or Mary Ann:

Love, you dear delusive dream, you! Very sweet your victims

deem you,

When, heard only by the seamew, they talk all the stuff

one can.