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ogainst 
 
 ittelancl)olg» 
 
Adahnar. — "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, 
 'T is a brave ballad." 
 
 T. L. Beddoes^ Death's Jest Book, Acts IV. and V. 
 
An Antidote 
 
 against 
 
 MELANCHOLY 
 
 Compounded of Choice Toems, Jovial Songs, 
 iMerry "Ballads, and IVitty Tarodies. 
 Moft pleasant and diverting to read. 
 
 ^r ^ElV-YOT{K. 
 
 Printed bv T. L. D. V. for PRATT MANUFACT- 
 URING COMPANY, and are to he had at their 
 shop in Broadway, 5\b. 46, near "Bowling Green. 
 
 CHRISTMAS, MDCCCLXXXiy. 
 
Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, 
 But moody and dull melancholy, 
 (Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair,) 
 And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop 
 Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life? 
 
 Shakspere — Comedy of Errors, Ad V.,Sc. i. 
 
 Copyright, 1884, by Pratt Manufacturing Company 
 
To the 
 
 READER 
 
 COUTiTQOUS TiG^T>Q1i: 
 
 Jra^ffHY graterul reception ot our tor- 
 ^y^g mer collectipn Iiath indyced us 
 to a second essay of me 'satrie nature; 
 and, as we are confident it will be 
 found in no wise inferiour to the for- 
 mer in worth, so we assure ourselves it 
 shall at least equal it in its fortunate 
 acceptation. It being our design rather 
 
 9e2S<:2 
 
to make such a collection as shall please 
 all Complexions, Ages, and Constitutions 
 of either Sexes, than to gratify our vanity 
 by a display of learning, there will be 
 found here poems of all kinds, pastoral, 
 lyric, convivial, grave, and gay, but none 
 to offend any. To gather these poems, 
 for many of w^hich we have gone to the 
 original sources, has been a long under- 
 taking; but if only this little book, which 
 we now present to thee, shall make good 
 its claim to being An Antidote Against 
 Mela,ncholy, though to but one of its 
 readers, we shall feel that our labour has 
 been (jiiffieietitly rewarded. We have of 
 purpose kept the number of these, our 
 selections, within small compass, prefer- 
 ring to serve up these delicates by frugal 
 messes, as aiming at thy satisfaction, not 
 satiety. But our design being more upon 
 
thy judgment than thy patience, more 
 to delight thee than to detain thee by a 
 tedious (and we fear seldom-read) epistle, 
 we will draw the curtain that shuts from 
 thy view what we have prepared ; first, 
 however, acknowledging our obligation 
 to Henry Holt & Co., Charles Scrib- 
 ner's Sons, and White, Stokes & Allen 
 for courtesies extended during the com- 
 pilation of this work. Finally, there 
 remains but the pleasant duty of return- 
 ing grateful thanks for thy patronage in 
 the past, and of wishing thee a Merrie 
 Christmas. 
 
 Thy much obliged, and 
 Most obedient servants. 
 
 The T^ublishers. 
 
Cast care away, let sorrow cease, 
 
 A fig for melancholy! 
 Let 's laugh and sing, or, if you please. 
 
 We '11 frolic with sweet Dolly. 
 
 Old English Song. 
 
CORIDON'S SONG. 
 
 Thomas Lodge, 
 i557?-i625? 
 
 From " Rosalynde : Euphues Golden Legacie, 
 by T. L. Gent. London, I3Q2." It was this 
 Pastoral Romance that afforded Shakspere 
 the hints for his exquisite Comedy of '^As 
 You Like It." 
 
 A BLITHE and bonny country-lass, 
 Heigh ho, bonny lass ; 
 Sate sighing on the tender grass. 
 
 And weeping said : Will none come woo me ? 
 A smicker boy, a lither swain, 
 Heigh ho, a smicker swain; 
 That in his love was wanton fain. 
 
 With smiling looks straight came unto her. 
 
 When as the wanton wench espied, 
 
 Heigh ho, when she espied 
 The means to make herself a bride, 
 
 She simpered smooth like bonny-bell. 
 The swain that saw her squint-eyed kind, 
 
 Heigh ho, squint-eyed kind ; 
 His arms about her body twined, 
 
 And said: Fair lass, how fare ye, well? 
 
-12 ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL Y. 
 
 The country kit said : Well, forsooth, 
 
 Heigh ho, well, forsooth; 
 But that I have a longing tooth, 
 
 A longing tooth that makes me cry ; 
 Alas (said he), what gars thy grief? 
 
 Heigh ho, what gars thy grief? 
 A wound (quoth she) without relief, 
 
 I fear a maid that I shall die. 
 
 If that be all, the Shepherd said. 
 
 Heigh ho, the Shepherd said ; 
 I '11 make thee wive it, gentle maid. 
 
 And so recure thy maladie : 
 Hereon they kiss'd with many an oath. 
 
 Heigh ho, many an oath; 
 And 'fore god Pan did plight their troth, 
 
 So to the church apace they hie. 
 
 And God send every pretty peate, 
 
 Heigh ho, the pretty peate, 
 That fears to die of this conceit. 
 
 So kind a friend to help at last: 
 Then maids shall never long again, 
 
 Heigh ho, to long again; 
 When they find ease for such a pain, 
 
 Thus my roundelay is past. 
 
ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL Y. 13-^ 
 
 THE SHEPHERD'S DAFFODIL. 
 
 The following stanzas, by Michael Drayton, are 
 
 found in one of his Pastorals, bearing the 
 
 Michael Drayton, -whimsical title of ''idea. The Shepheard's 
 
 156-2— l6'5I. Gar la nd, fashioned in nine Eclogs. Rowland 's 
 
 Sacrifice to the Nine Muses," 1593. This song 
 occurs in the Ninth Eclogue. 
 
 Batte. — f~^ ORBO as thou cam'st this way 
 V_X By yonder little hill, 
 Or as thou through the fields did'st stray, 
 Saw'st thou my Daffodil? 
 
 She 's in a frock of Lincoln green, 
 Which colour likes her sight, 
 
 And never hath her beauty seen 
 But through a veil of white. 
 
 Than roses richer to behold 
 That trim up lovers' bowers, 
 
 The pansy and the marigold. 
 Though Phoebus' paramours. 
 
 GoRBO. — Thou well describ'st the Daffodil ; 
 It is not full an hour 
 Since by the spring near yonder hill 
 I saw that lovely flower. 
 
-14 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Batte. — Yet my fair flower thou did'st not meet 
 Nor news of her did'st bring, 
 And yet my Daffodil 's more sweet 
 Than that by yonder spring. 
 
 GoRBO. — I saw a shepherd that does keep 
 In yonder field of lilies, 
 Was making (as he fed his sheep) 
 A wreath of daflbdillies. 
 
 Batte. — Yet, Gorbo^ thou delud'st me still; 
 My flower thou did'st not see, 
 For, know, my pretty Daffodil 
 Is worn of none but me. 
 
 To show itself but near her feet 
 
 No lily is so bold, 
 Except to shade her from the heat 
 
 Or keep her from the cold. 
 
 GoRBO. — Through yonder vale as I did pass, 
 Descending from the hill, 
 I met a smirking bonny lass; 
 They call her Daffodil. 
 
 Whose presence as along she went 
 The pretty flowers did greet, 
 
 As though their heads they downward bent 
 With homage to her feet. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 15- 
 
 And all the shepherds that were nigh, 
 
 From top of every hill 
 Unto the valleys loud did cry 
 
 "There goes sweet Daffodil^ 
 
 Batte. — Aye, gentle shepherd, now with joy 
 Thou all my flocks dost fill; 
 That 's she alone, kind shepherd's boy; 
 Let us to Daffodil. 
 
— z<5 ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL Y. 
 
 LULLABY SONG. 
 
 From " The Pleasant Comodie of Patient Gris- 
 TT»T^T^T, sill." l6oj. By Thomas Dekker, Henry 
 
 U NCERTAIN. ChtttU, and William Haughton. 
 
 GOLDEN slumbers kiss your eyes, 
 Smiles awake you when you rise; 
 Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry. 
 And I will sing a lullaby. 
 
 Care is heavy, therefore sleep you, 
 
 You are care, and care must keep you; 
 
 Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, 
 And I will sing a lullaby. 
 
 Rock them, rock them, lullaby. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 17^ _ 
 
 A DITTY. 
 
 Quoted by George Puitenham in. his "Arte of 
 
 English Poesy, isSg," as an instance o/"Epi- 
 
 SlR Philip Sidney vtone,orthe Love Burden.'^ In the ^'Arcadia, 
 
 o/. ^ ' • 1598," however, these lines appear as a son- 
 
 '554~^5""* net by the omission of the refrain as Jiere, and 
 
 the addition of six lines ; the final one being 
 the refrain. 
 
 MY true love hath my heart, and I have his, 
 By just exchange one to the other given : 
 I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, 
 There never was a better bargain driven: 
 
 My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 
 
 His heart in me keeps him and me in one, 
 
 My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides 
 
 He loves my heart, for once it was his own, 
 I cherish his because in me it abides : 
 
 My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 
 
—i8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 DRINKING SONG. 
 
 John Still? 
 1543-1607. 
 
 This excellent old Drinking Sotig, which Warton 
 terms " tfie Jirst chanson a boire of any merit 
 in our language," is from "A ryght pithy, 
 pleasaunt, and merie Comedie : Intytuled 
 Gammer Gttrton's Nedle." London, ISJS. 
 
 I CAN NOT eat but little meat, 
 My stomach is not good; 
 But sure, I think that I can drink 
 
 With him that wears a hood. 
 The' I go bare, take ye no care, 
 
 I am nothing a cold, 
 I stuff my skin so full within 
 Of jolly good ale and old. 
 
 Back aiid side go bare, go bare, 
 Both foot and hand go cold ; 
 
 But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, 
 Whether it be new or old. 
 
 I love no roast but a nut-brown toast, 
 
 And a crab ^ laid in the fire ; 
 A little bread shall do me stead. 
 
 Much bread I not desire. 
 
 ^ Crab-apple. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. ig— __. 
 
 No frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow, 
 
 Can hurt me if I wold,^ 
 I am so wrapt, and throwly^ lapt 
 
 Of jolly good ale and old. 
 
 Back and side go bare, etc. 
 
 And Tib, my wife, that as her life 
 
 Loveth well good ale to seek, 
 Full oft drinks she, till ye may see 
 
 The tears run down her cheek : 
 Then doth she troul to me the bowl, 
 
 Even as a maltworm should. 
 And saith, " Sweetheart, I took my part 
 
 Of this jolly good ale and old." 
 Back and side go bare, etc. 
 
 Now let them drink till they nod and wink. 
 
 Even as good fellows should do; 
 They shall not miss to have the bliss 
 
 Good ale doth bring men to ; 
 And all poor souls that have scoured bowls. 
 
 Or have them lustily troul'd, 
 God save the lives of them and their wives, 
 
 Whether they be young or old. 
 Back and side go bare, etc. 
 
 Willed. 2 Thoroughly. 
 
—20 ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL V. 
 
 DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST. 
 
 T^ese Jine moral stanzas were originally in- 
 
 TaMES Shirley tended for a solemn fimeral song itt " The 
 
 (^ AAA ' Contention of Ajax and Ulysses." ibsg. It 
 
 I59"~^""0. /j s^id Iff Jiave been a favorite song with King 
 
 Charles II. 
 
 THE glories of our birth and state 
 Are shadows, not substantial things; 
 There is no armour against fate ; 
 Death lays his icy hands on kings : 
 Sceptre and crown 
 Must tumble down, 
 And in the dust be equal made 
 With the poor crooked scythe and spade. 
 
 Some men with swords may reap the field, 
 And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; 
 But their strong nerves at last must yield, 
 They tame but one another still. 
 Early or late, 
 They stoop to fate. 
 And must give up their murm'ring breath 
 When the pale captive creeps to death. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 21— 
 
 The laurel withers on your brow, 
 
 Then boast no more your mighty deeds, 
 Upon Death's purple altar now 
 
 See where the victor victim bleeds; 
 All heads must come 
 To the cold tomb : 
 Only the actions of the just 
 Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. 
 
22 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 A GENTLEMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 
 
 Austin Dobson, 
 Born 1840. 
 
 From ' ' OM- World Idylls, 1883. ' ' Mr. Dobson 
 belongs to that recent class of English poets 
 •who have reproduced tJie old French/orms of 
 verse in the ro7ideau, virelai, villanelle, bal- 
 lade, etc. 
 
 HE lived in that past Georgian day, 
 When men were less inclined to say 
 That ''Time is Gold," and overlay 
 
 With toil their pleasure; 
 He held some land, and dwelt thereon, — 
 Where, I forget, — the house is gone; 
 His Christian name, I think, was John, — 
 His surname, Leisure. 
 
 Reynolds has painted him, — a face 
 Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace, 
 Fresh-coloured, frank, with ne'er a trace 
 
 Of trouble shaded; 
 The eyes are blue, the hair is drest 
 In plainest way, — one hand is prest 
 Deep in a flapped canary vest, 
 
 With buds brocaded. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 23- 
 
 He wears a brown old Brunswick coat, 
 With silver buttons, — round his throat, 
 A soft cravat; — in all you note 
 
 An elder fashion. 
 A strangeness, which, to us who shine 
 In shapely hats, — whose coats combine 
 All harmonies of hue and line. 
 
 Inspires compassion. 
 
 He hved so long ago, you see ! 
 Men were untravelled then, but we. 
 Like Ariel, post o'er land and sea 
 
 With careless parting; 
 He found it quite enough for him 
 To smoke his pipe in " garden trim," 
 And watch, about the fish-tank's brim. 
 
 The swallows darting. 
 
 He liked the well- wheel's creaking tongue, — 
 He liked the thrush that stopped and sung, — 
 He liked the drone of flies among 
 
 His netted peaches. 
 He liked to watch the sunHght fall 
 Athwart his ivied orchard wall; 
 Or pause to catch the cuckoo's call 
 
 Beyond the beeches. 
 
 His were the times of Paint and Patch, 
 And yet no Ranelagh could match 
 The sober doves that round his thatch 
 Spread tails and sidled; 
 
•24 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 
 
 He liked their ruffling, puffed content, — 
 For him their drowsy vvheehngs meant 
 More than a Mall of Beaux that bent 
 Or Belles that bridled. 
 
 Not that, in truth, when life began 
 He shunned the flutter of the fan ; 
 He, too, had maybe " pinked his man " 
 
 In Beauty's quarrel; 
 But now his " fervent youth " had flown 
 Where lost things go ; and he was grown 
 As staid and slow-paced as his own 
 
 Old hunter. Sorrel. 
 
 Yet still he loved the chase, and held 
 That no composer's score excelled 
 The merry horn, when Sweetlip swelled 
 
 Its jovial riot; 
 But most his measured words of praise 
 Caressed the angler's easy ways, — 
 His idly meditative days, — 
 
 His rustic diet. 
 
 Not that his " meditating " rose 
 Beyond a sunny summer doze; 
 He never troubled his repose 
 
 With fruitless prying; 
 But held, as law for high and low, 
 What God withholds no man can know, 
 And smiled away inquiry so, 
 
 Without replying. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 25— 
 
 We read — alas, how much we read ! — 
 The jumbled strifes of creed and creed 
 With endless controversies feed 
 
 Our groaning tables; 
 His books — and they sufficed him — were 
 Cotton's " Montaigne," "The Grave" of Blair, 
 A "Walton" — much the worse for wear, 
 
 And "^sop's Fables." 
 
 One more,— "The Bible." Not that he 
 Had searched its page as deep as we; 
 No sophistries could make him see 
 
 Its slender credit; 
 It may be that he could not count 
 The sires and sons to Jesse's fount, — 
 He liked the " Sermon on the Mount," — 
 
 And more, he read it. 
 
 Once he had loved, but failed to wed, 
 A red-cheeked lass, who long was dead; 
 His ways were far too slow, he said. 
 
 To quite forget her; 
 And still, when time had turned him gray 
 The earliest hawthorn buds in May 
 Would find his lingering feet astray. 
 
 Where first he met her. 
 
 ^In Ccelo Qiiies^' heads the stone 
 On Leisure's grave, — now little known, 
 A tangle of wild-rose has grown 
 So thick across it ; 
 
•26 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 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 ! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 27- 
 
 FAIR AMORET IS GONE ASTRAY." 
 
 William Congreve, 
 1 6 70- 1 729. 
 
 f- 
 
 FAIR Amoret is gone astray, 
 Pursue, and seek her, every lover ; 
 I '11 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. 
 
-28 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 ON WOMEN. 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 Front " Wifs Recreations, Augmented with 
 ingenious conceitesfor the Wittie, and Merrie 
 tnedecines for tJie Melancholie. 1640. " 
 
 WOMEN 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. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 2g- 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Macau lay speaks of Sir Charles Sedley as " one 
 of the most brilliant and profligate -wits of the 
 Sir Charles Sedley, Restoration." He luas the author of three 
 
 1639-I70I. plays," The Mulberry Garden" i6(i8; ''An- 
 
 tony and Cleopatra " ibjT ; and"Bellamira," 
 1687. 
 
 PHYLLIS, 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. 
 
—JO ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 THE COUNTRY LASS. 
 
 Martin Parker. 
 
 It would be difficult to name many ballads 
 xvhich Jiave Jiad a larger share of popularity 
 than " The Country Lass." It was first 
 printed for t}ie 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. 
 
 ALTHOUGH I am a country lass, 
 A lofty mind I bear — a, 
 I think myself as good as those 
 
 That gay apparel wear — gi, 
 My coat is made of homely gray, 
 
 Yet is my skin as soft — a. 
 As those that with the chiefest wines 
 Do bathe their bodies oft — a. 
 Down, dow7i, derry, derry down, 
 
 Heigh doivn, a down, a down a, 
 A derry, derry, derry, derry, down, 
 Heigh down, a down, a deny. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 31— 
 
 What, though I keep my father's sheep ? 
 
 A thing that must be done — a, 
 A garland of the fairest flowers 
 
 Shall shroud me from the sun — a, 
 And when I see them feeding be, 
 
 Where grass and flowers spring — a, 
 Close by a crystal fountain side, 
 
 I sit me down, and sing — a. 
 
 Dowji^ down, def-ry, derry down, etc. 
 
 Dame Nature crowns us with delight. 
 
 Surpassing court or city, 
 We pleasures take from morn to night, 
 
 In sports and pastimes pretty : 
 Your city dames in coaches ride 
 
 Abroad for recreation, 
 We country lasses hate their pride. 
 
 And keep the country fashion. 
 Down, down, derry, derry dow7i, etc. 
 
 Your city wives lead wanton lives, 
 
 And if they come i' th' country. 
 They are so proud, that each one strives 
 
 For to outbrave our gentry. 
 We country lasses homely be; 
 
 For seat nor wall we strive not ; 
 We are content with our degree ; 
 
 Our debtors we deprive not. 
 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 I care not for a fan or mask, 
 
 When Titan's heat reflecteth, 
 A homely hat is all I ask, 
 
 Which well my face protecteth ; 
 
-J2 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 Yet am I in my country guise, 
 
 Esteemed lass as pretty, 
 As those that every day devise 
 
 New shapes in court and city. 
 
 L>ow7i, dow?i, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 In every season of the year 
 
 I undergo my labour, — 
 No shower, nor wind, at all I fear, 
 
 My limbs I do not favour ; 
 If summer's heat my beauty stain, 
 
 It makes me ne'er the sicker, 
 Sith I can wash it off again 
 
 With a cup of Christmas liquor. 
 Down, down, derry, deny down, etc. 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 At Christmas time, in mirth and glee, 
 
 I dance with young men neatly, 
 And who i' th' city like to me, 
 
 Shall pleasure taste completely ? 
 No sport, but pride and luxury 
 
 I' th' city can be found then, 
 But bounteous hospitality 
 
 I' th' country doth abound then. 
 Dow7i, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 V th' Spring my labour yields delight 
 To walk i' th' merry morning, 
 
 When Flora is (to please my sight) 
 The ground with flowers adorning ; 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 33- 
 
 With merry lads to make the hay 
 
 I go, and do not grumble, 
 My work doth seem to be but play, 
 
 When with young men I tumble. 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 The lark and thrush from briar to bush 
 
 Do leap, and skip and sing — a. 
 And all is then to welcome in 
 
 The long and look'd for Spring — a; 
 We fear not Cupid's arrows keen, 
 
 Dame Venus we defy — a, 
 Diana is our honour'd queen, 
 
 And her we magnify — a. 
 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 That which your city damsels scorn, 
 
 We hold our chiefest jewel, 
 Without, to work at hay and corn, 
 
 Within, to bake and brew well ; 
 To keep the dairy decently. 
 
 And all things clean and neatly, 
 Your city minions do defy, — 
 
 Their scorn we weigh not greatly. 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 When we together a milking go 
 
 With pails upon our heads — a. 
 And walking over woods and fields, 
 Where grass and flowers spread — a, 
 3 
 
—34 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 In honest pleasure we delight, 
 
 Which makes our labour sweet — a, 
 
 And mirth exceeds on every side 
 When lads and lassies meet — a. 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 Then do not scorn a country lass, 
 
 Though she be plain and meanly, 
 Who takes a country wench to wife 
 
 (That goeth neat and cleanly) 
 Is better sped, than if he wed 
 
 A fine one from the city; 
 For there they are so nicely bred, 
 
 They must not work for pity. 
 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 
 
 I speak not this to that intent 
 
 (As some may well conjecture). 
 As though to wooing I were bent, — 
 No, I ne'er learn'd Love's lecture; 
 But what I sing is in defence 
 Of all plain country lasses. 
 Whose modest, honest innocence 
 All city girls surpasses. 
 
 Down, down, derry, derry down, 
 
 Heigh down, a down, a down a, 
 A derry, derry, derry, derry down, 
 Heigh down, a down, a derry. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 35— -^ 
 
 WINIFREDA. 
 
 " This beautiful address to conjugal love,'* says 
 
 Bishop Percy, "a subject too much neglected 
 
 by the libertine Muses, was, I believe, first 
 
 printed in a volume of ' Miscellaneous Poems, 
 
 Unknown. by Several hands, published by D. Lewis, 
 
 1726, 8vo'." The authorship is unknown, 
 though it has been escribed, probably errone- 
 ously, to Gilbert Cooper. 
 
 AWAY; let nought to love displeasing, 
 My Winifreda, move your care ; 
 Let nought delay the heavenly blessing, 
 Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear. 
 
 What though no grants of royal donors 
 With pompous titles grace our blood; 
 
 We '11 shine in more substantial honors. 
 And to be noble we '11 be good. 
 
 Our name, while virtue thus we tender. 
 Will sweetly sound where e'er 't is spoke ; 
 
 And all the great ones they shall wonder 
 How they respect such little folk. 
 
 What though from fortune's lavish bounty 
 No mighty treasures we possess; 
 
 We '11 find within our pittance plenty, 
 And be content without excess. 
 
—jd ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Still shall each returning season 
 Sufficient for our wishes give ; 
 
 For we will live a life of reason, 
 And that 's the only life to live. 
 
 Through youth and age in love excelling, 
 We '11 hand in hand together tread ; 
 
 Sweet-smiling peace shall crown our dwelling, 
 And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. 
 
 How should I love the pretty creatures, 
 While round my knees they fondly clung; 
 
 To see them look their mother's features. 
 To hear them lisp their mother's tongue. 
 
 And when with envy time transported. 
 Shall think to rob us of our joys, 
 
 You '11 in your girls again be courted, 
 And I '11 go wooing in my boys. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, j/— • 
 
 THE VICAR OF BRAY. 
 
 Nicfiols, in his Select Poems, says that the Song 
 T T XT TT xT/-»i»7XT oftke VicttT of Bmy ' ' -Mas written by a soldier 
 
 U NKNOWN. . {^ Colonel Fuller's troop oj Dragoons, in the 
 
 reign of George I." 
 
 IN good King Charles's golden days, 
 When loyalty no harm meant, 
 A zealous high-church-man I was. 
 
 And so I got preferment. 
 To teach my flock I never miss'd, 
 
 Kings are by God appointed; 
 And damn'd are those that do resist, 
 Or touch the Lord's Anointed. 
 And this is law, I will maintain, 
 
 Until my dying day, sir, 
 That whatsoever king shall reign, 
 I '// be the Vicar of Bj'ay, sir. 
 
 When Royal James obtain'd the crown. 
 And popery came in fashion, 
 
 The penal laws I hooted down. 
 And read the Declaration : 
 
— jc? ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 The Church of Rome I found would fit 
 
 Full well my constitution; 
 And had become a Jesuit, 
 
 But for the Revolution. 
 And this is law, etc. 
 
 When William was our King declared, 
 
 To ease the nation's grievance, 
 With this new wind about I steer'd 
 
 And swore to him allegiance : 
 Old principles I did revoke, 
 
 Set conscience at a distance ,•* 
 Passive obedience was a joke, 
 
 A jest was non-resistance. 
 And this is law, etc. 
 
 When gracious Anne became our. queen. 
 
 The Church of England's glory, 
 Another face of things was seen, 
 
 And I became a tory! 
 Occasional conformists base, 
 
 I damn'd their moderation; 
 And thought the church in danger was. 
 
 By such prevarication. 
 Afid this is law, etc. 
 
 When George in pudding-time came o'er, 
 And moderate men looked big, sir, 
 
 I turn'd a cat-in-pan once more, 
 And so became a whig, sir. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, jp- 
 
 And thus preferment I procured 
 
 From our new faiths-defender; 
 And ahuost ev'ry day abjur'd 
 
 The Pope and the Pretender. 
 And this is law, etc. 
 
 Th' illustrious house of Hanover, 
 
 And Protestant succession ; 
 To these I do allegiance swear — 
 
 While they can keep possession : 
 For in my faith and loyalty, 
 I never more will faulter. 
 And George my lawful king shall be — 
 Until the times do alter. 
 
 And this is law, I will maintain, 
 
 Until my dying day, sir, 
 That whatsoever king shall reign, 
 I '// be the Vicar of Bray, sir. 
 
-40 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 
 
 MY GRANDMOTHER. 
 
 (suggested by a picture by MR. ROMNEY.) 
 
 From *^ London Lyrics. 1862." Mr. Locker 
 
 Frederick Locker, " °^^ "I S^ most delightful of the English 
 
 T» tQot writers of "vers de socieie, and his poems 
 
 rJOrn 1 021. ^^^y ^^ read with pleasure, for his gayety is 
 
 always sweet and genial. 
 
 THIS relative of mine 
 Was she seventy and nine 
 When she died ? 
 By the canvas may be seen 
 How she looked at seventeen, — 
 As a bride. 
 
 Beneath a summer tree 
 As she sits, her reverie 
 
 Has a charm; 
 Her ringlets are in taste, — 
 What an arm ! and what a waist 
 
 For an arm ! 
 
 In bridal coronet. 
 
 Lace, ribbons, and coquette 
 
 Falbala; 
 Were Romney's limning true, 
 What a lucky dog were you. 
 
 Grandpapa ! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY, 41— 
 
 Her lips are sweet as love, — 
 They are parting ! Do they move ? 
 
 Are they dumb ? — 
 Her eyes are blue, and beam 
 Beseechingly, and seem 
 
 To say, " Come." 
 
 What funny fancy slips 
 
 From atween these cherry lips ? 
 
 Whisper me. 
 Sweet deity, in paint, 
 What canon says I may n't 
 
 Marry thee ? 
 
 That good-for-nothing Time 
 Has a confidence sublime ! 
 
 When I first 
 Saw this lady, in my youth, 
 Her winters had, forsooth, 
 
 Done their worst. 
 
 Her locks (as white as snow) 
 
 Once shamed the swarthy crow. « 
 
 By-and-by, 
 That fowl's avenging sprite 
 Set his cloven foot for spite 
 
 In her eye. 
 
 Her rounded form was lean, 
 And her silk was bombazine : — 
 
 Well I wot. 
 With her needles would she sit, 
 And for hours would she knit, — 
 
 Would she not ? 
 
—42 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Ah, perishable clay ! 
 
 Her charms had dropt away- 
 One by one. 
 
 But if she heaved a sigh 
 
 With a burthen, it was "Thy 
 Will be done." 
 
 In travail, as in tears. 
 With the fardel of her years 
 
 Overprest, — 
 In mercy was she borne 
 Where the weary ones and worn 
 
 Are at rest. 
 
 I 'm fain to meet you there,^ 
 If as witching as you were, 
 
 Grandmamma ! 
 This nether world agrees 
 That the better it must please 
 
 Grandpapa. 
 
^ ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 43- 
 
 O NANCY WILT THOU GO WITH ME ? 
 
 The/olloiuing very lovely song is the composition 
 0/ Bishop Percy, the well-known editor of the 
 rp p Reliques of A ncient English Poetry. Burns, 
 
 IHOMAS r^ERCY, writing of this song, remarks. It is " perhaps 
 
 1 728-181 1 . the most beautiful ballad in the English lan- 
 
 guage." 
 
 O NANCY, wilt thou go with me, 
 Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town? 
 Can silent glens have charms for thee. 
 
 The lowly cot and russet gown ? 
 No longer drest in silken sheen, 
 
 No longer deck'd with jewels rare. 
 
 Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene, 
 
 Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? 
 
 O Nancy ! when thou 'rt far away, 
 
 Wilt thou not cast a wish behind ? 
 Say, canst thou face the parching ray. 
 
 Nor shrink before the wintry wind ? 
 O, can that soft and gentle mien 
 
 Extremes of hardships learn to bear, 
 Nor sad regret each courtly scene, 
 
 Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? 
 
^44 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 O Nancy, canst thou love so true, 
 
 Through perils keen with me to go, 
 Or when thy swain mishap shall rue. 
 
 To share with him the pang of woe ? 
 Say, should disease or pain befall, 
 
 Wilt thou assume the nurse's care 
 Nor wistful those gay scenes recall, 
 
 Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 
 
 And when at last thy love shall die. 
 
 Wilt thou receive his parting breath ? 
 Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh. 
 
 And cheer with smiles the bed of death ? 
 And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay 
 
 Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear. 
 Nor then regret those scenes so gay 
 
 Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 45- 
 
 A PARODY. 
 
 T/te Rev. Charles Wolfe's immortal Ode, " Tht 
 Burial of Sir John Moore" was first pub- 
 lished aiiotiyjnoitsly in " Currick's Morning- 
 Post" (Ireland), i7i l8lS ; and though it at 
 once became -widely pnptdar, its authorship 
 T3 T> Tsx -o ^^"^ remained the subject of controversy. 
 
 Rev. R. H. BARHAM, A^nong the mtmerous claimants to the au- 
 
 1788— 1845. thorship was a certain sot-disant *' Doctor," 
 
 a veterinary surgeon of the name of Mar- 
 shall ; and it was to expose and ridicule his 
 pretensions that the following excellent parody 
 was written by the Rev. R. H. Barham. 
 ' "Doctor" Marshall was more remarkable 
 
 for convivial than literary tastes. 
 
 NOT a SOU had he got, not a guinea or note, 
 And he looked confoundedly flurried, 
 As he bolted away without paying his shot. 
 And the landlady after him hurried. 
 
 We saw him again at dead of night, 
 When home from the club returning. 
 
 We " twigg'd " the Doctor beneath the light 
 Of the gas-lamp brilliantly burning. 
 
 All bare, and exposed to the midnight dews. 
 Reclined in the gutter we found him. 
 
 And he look'd like a gentleman taking a snooze. 
 With his Marshall cloak around him. 
 
—46 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 " The Doctor 's as drunk as the d ," we said, 
 
 And we managed a shutter to borrow ; 
 We raised him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head 
 Would consumedly ache on the morrow. 
 
 We bore him home, and we put him to bed, 
 And we told his wife and his daughter 
 
 To give him, next morning, a couple of red 
 Herrings, with soda water. 
 
 Loudly they talk'd of his money that 's gone. 
 
 And his lady began to upbraid him ; 
 But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on 
 
 'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him. 
 
 We tuck'd him in, and had hardly done. 
 
 When, beneath the window calling, 
 We heard the rough voice of a son-of-a-gun 
 
 Of a watchman, " One o'clock," bawling. 
 
 Slowly and sadly we all walk'd down 
 From his room in the uppermost story; 
 
 A rushlight we placed on the cold hearth-stone, 
 And we left him alone in his glory. 
 
 Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores. — Virgil. 
 
 I wrote the verses, . . claimed them — he told stories. 
 
 — Thomas Ingoldsby. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 47- 
 
 THE COUNTRY WEDDING. 
 
 Unknown. From " Ritson's English Songs," 17SJ. 
 
 WELL met, pretty nymph, says a jolly young swain, 
 To a lovely young shepherdess crossing the plain ; 
 Why so much in haste ? (Now the month it was May) 
 Shall I venture to ask you, fair maiden, which way ? 
 
 Then strait to this question the nymph did reply, 
 With a smile on her look, and a leer on her eye, 
 I came from the village, and homeward I go ; 
 And now, gentle shepherd, pray why would you know ? 
 
 I hope, pretty maid, you wont take it amiss, 
 If I tell you the reason of asking you this; 
 
 tl would see you safe home (the swain was in love), 
 Of such a companion if you would approve. 
 
 Your offer, kind shepherd, is civil I own, 
 But see no great danger in going alone; 
 Nor yet can I hinder, the road being free 
 For one as another, for you as for me. 
 
-^4^ ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 No danger in going alone, it is true, 
 
 But yet a companion is pleasanter, too; 
 
 And if you could like (now the swain he took heart) 
 
 Such a sweetheart as me, we never would part. 
 
 ! that 's a long word, said the shepherdess then ; 
 
 1 've often heard say, there 's no minding you men : 
 You '11 say and unsay, and you '11 flatter, 't is true ; 
 Then leave a young maiden, the first thing you do. 
 
 O, judge not so harshly, the shepherd replied; 
 To prove what I say, I will make you my bride; 
 To-morrow the parson (well said, little swain) 
 Shall join both our hands, and make one of us twain. 
 
 Then what the nymph answer'd to this, is not said ; 
 The very next morn, to be sure, they were wed. 
 Sing hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle down, 
 Now when shall we see such a wedding in town ! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 4g— 
 
 4 
 
 ON CHRISTMAS EVE. 
 
 This poem, illustrative of old Christmas ctis- 
 ROBERT HeRRICK ioms and superstitions, is selected from the 
 
 -.^^■^ -.c^ ' " Hesperides ' ' of Robert Herrick, first pub- 
 
 159I-1674. lished in 1648. 
 
 COME bring with a noise, 
 My merry, merry boys, 
 The Christmas log to the firing; 
 While my good dame, she 
 Bids ye all be free. 
 And drink to your heart's desiring. 
 
 With the last year's brand ^ 
 
 Light the new block, and 
 For good success in his spending, 
 
 On your psalteries play, 
 
 That sweet luck may 
 Come while the log is a teending.^ 
 
 Drink now the strong beer. 
 
 Cut the white loaf here. 
 The while the meat is a shredding 
 
 For the rare mince-pie. 
 
 And the plums standing by, 
 To fill the paste that 's a kneading. 
 
 ^ A portion of the log used to be preserved until the next year, with which 
 to light the new block, and the omission to do so was deemed unlucky. 
 * Kindling, 
 
 4 
 
—so ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 TO THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET. 
 
 Charles Cowden Clarke relates how during a 
 
 visit paid by Keats and himself to Leigh Hunty 
 
 December jo, iS/6, the host proposed to Keats 
 
 Leigh Hunt, ^'^ the challenge of writing then, there, and to 
 
 1784—1859. time," a sonnet " On the Grasshopper and the 
 
 Cricket." T lie following sonnet, and that on 
 the opposite page, were the result of their 
 fricitdly strife. 
 
 GREEN little vaulter in the sunny grass, 
 Catching your heart up at the feel of June, 
 Sole voice that 's heard amidst the lazy noon, 
 When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; 
 And you, warm little housekeeper, who class 
 With those who think the candles come too soon. 
 Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune 
 Nick the glad silent moments as they pass; 
 Oh, sweet and tiny cousins, that belong, 
 One to the fields, the other to the hearth, 
 Both have your sunshine; both though small are strong 
 At your clear hearts; and both were sent on earth 
 To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song : 
 In doors and out, summer and winter. Mirth. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. si— 
 
 ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET. 
 
 In this trial Keats won as td time ; " btit," Mr. 
 Clarke contifiues, " wifJt all the kind and 
 J OHN Keats, gratifying things t/tat -were said to him, Keats 
 
 1 79c- 1 82 1 . protested to me, as we were afterwards walk- 
 
 ing home, tltat he preferred Hunt' s treatment 
 to his o-wn." 
 
 THE poetry of earth is never dead: 
 When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, 
 And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run 
 From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; 
 That is the grasshopper's — he takes the lead 
 In summer luxury, — he has never done 
 With his delights; for, when tired out with fun, 
 He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. 
 The poetry of earth is ceasing never : 
 On a lone winter evening, when the frost 
 Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills 
 The cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, 
 And seems to one in drowsiness half lost. 
 The grasshopper's among some grassy hills. 
 
—52 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 AMINTOR'S WELL-A-DAY. 
 
 T^n TJ u tjtt,-tjt7c From the Third Part of " Lawes's Ayres and 
 
 Dr. H. H. Hughes. Dialogues." 1658. 
 
 CHLORIS, now thou art fled away, 
 Amintor's sheep are gone astray, 
 And all the joy he took to see 
 His pretty lambs run after thee 
 Is gone, is gone, and he alway 
 Sings nothing now but well-a-day ! 
 
 His oaten pipe, that in thy praise 
 Was wont to sing such roundelays. 
 Is thrown away, and not a swain 
 Dares pipe or sing within his plain, 
 'T is death for any now to say 
 One word to him but well-a-day ! 
 
 The may-pole, where thy litde feet 
 So roundly did in measure meet, 
 Is broken down, and no content 
 Comes near Amintor since you went, 
 All that I ever heard him say 
 Was Chloris, Chloris, well-a-day ! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 33- 
 
 Upon those banks you used to tread, 
 He ever since hath laid his head, 
 And whisper'd there such pining woe, 
 As not a blade of grass will grow, — 
 O Chloris, Chloris, come away, 
 And hear Amintor's well-a-day ! 
 
—34 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN. 
 
 Fro7n " Fly Leaves. Ninth Edition. London, 
 
 ^ 1S83." Mr. Calverley was certainly one of 
 
 C. S. Calverley, the most sttccess/ul and popular poets of an age 
 
 183 1 -1 884. '« -which fezv poets see many editions; and as 
 
 tlte author oj ^'Fly Leaves " ivas ivell known 
 to all "who liked mirth. 
 
 GRINDER, who serenely grindest 
 At my door the Hundredth Psalm, 
 Till thou ultimately findest 
 Pence in thy unwashen palm : 
 
 Grinder, jocund-hearted Grinder, 
 Near whom Barbary's nimble son. 
 
 Poised with skill upon his hinder 
 Paws, accepts the proffered bun : 
 
 Dearly do I love thy grinding; 
 
 Joy to meet thee on thy road 
 Where thou prowlest through the blinding 
 
 Dust with that stupendous load, 
 
 'Neath the baleful star of Sirius, 
 When the postmen slowlier jog. 
 
 And the ox becomes delirious. 
 And the muzzle decks the dog. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 55— 
 
 Tell me by what art thou bindest 
 
 On thy feet those ancient shoon: 
 Tell me, Grinder, if thou grindest 
 
 Always, always out of tune. 
 
 Tell me if, as thou art buckling 
 
 On thy straps with eager claws, 
 Thou forcastest, inly chuckling. 
 
 All the rage that thou wilt cause. 
 
 Tell me if at all thou mindest 
 
 When folks flee, as if on wings. 
 From thee as at ease thou grindest : 
 
 Tell me fifty thousand things. 
 
 Grinder, gentle-hearted Grinder! 
 
 Ruffians who led evil lives. 
 Soothed by thy sweet strains, are kinder 
 
 To their bullocks and their wives : 
 
 Children, when they see thy supple 
 Form approach, are out like shots; 
 
 Half-a-bar sets several couple 
 Waltzing in convenient spots; 
 
 Not with clumsy Jacks or Georges : 
 
 Unprofaned by grasp of man, 
 Maidens speed those simple orgies, 
 
 Betsy Jane with Betsy Ann. 
 
 As they love thee in St. Giles's 
 
 Thou art loved in Grosvenor Square : 
 
 None of those engaging smiles is 
 Unreciprocated there. 
 
—5^ ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Often, ere yet thou hast hammer'd 
 Through thy four deUcious airs, 
 
 Coins are flung thee by enamour'd 
 Housemaids upon area stairs : 
 
 E'en the ambrosial-whisker'd flunky 
 Eyes thy boots and thine unkempt 
 
 Beard and melancholy monkey 
 More in pity than contempt. 
 
 Far from England, in the sunny 
 South, where Anio leaps in foam, 
 
 Thou wast rear'd, till lack of money 
 Drew thee from thy vine-clad home : 
 
 And thy mate, the sinewy Jocko, 
 From Brazil or Afric came, — 
 
 Land of simoom and sirocco, — 
 And he seems extremely tame. 
 
 There he quafl"'d the undefiled 
 Spring, or hung with apelike glee, 
 
 By his teeth or tail or eyelid. 
 To the slippery mango-tree: 
 
 There he woo'd and won a dusky 
 Bride, of instincts like his own ; 
 
 Talk'd of love till he was husky 
 In a tongue to us unknown : 
 
 Side by side 't was theirs to ravage 
 
 The potato ground, or cut 
 Down the unsuspecting savage 
 
 With the well-aim'd cocoa-nut: — 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 57- 
 
 Till the miscreant stranger tore him 
 Screaming from his blue-faced fair; 
 
 And they flung strange raiment o'er him, 
 Raiment which he could not bear: 
 
 Sever'd from the pure embraces 
 
 Of his children and his spouse, 
 He must ride fantastic races 
 
 Mounted on reluctant sows : 
 
 But the heart of wistful Jocko 
 
 Still was with his ancient flame 
 In the nut-groves of Morocco; — 
 
 Or if not, it 's all the same : 
 
 Grinder, winsome, grinsome Grinder ! 
 
 They who see thee and whose soul 
 Melts not at thy charms, are blinder 
 
 Than a trebly-bandaged mole : 
 
 They to whom thy curt (yet clever) 
 
 Talk, thy music, and thine ape, 
 Seem not to be joys for ever. 
 
 Are but brutes in human shape. 
 
 'T is not that thy mien is stately, 
 
 'T is not that thy tones are soft ; 
 'T is not that I care so greatly 
 
 For the same thing play'd so oft : 
 
 But I 've heard mankind abuse thee; 
 
 And perhaps it 's rather strange. 
 But I thought that I would choose thee 
 
 For encomium, as a change. 
 
— j<P ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 THE SWEET NEGLECT. 
 
 This charming little madrigal (from Ben Jon- 
 
 RpM Tm^Qov son' s'^ Silent Wovtan" act i. sc. I, first acted 
 
 iDiLJN juiNSUi^, ^.^^ j^^^^ ^^ ^^^ imitation rf a Latin poem of 
 
 I574~I"37* Bonnefonius, beginning, " Semper tnunditias, 
 
 semper Basilissa, decores" etc. 
 
 STILL to be neat, still to be drest, 
 As you were going to a feast; 
 Still to be powder'd, still perfum'd : 
 Lady, it is to be presum'd. 
 Though art's hid causes be not found, 
 All is not sweet, all is not sound. 
 
 Give me a look, give me a face 
 
 That makes simplicity a grace; 
 
 Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : 
 
 Such sweet neglect more taketh me 
 
 Than all th' adulteries of art 
 
 That strike mine eyes, but not my heart. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, S9— 
 
 TO THE LARK. 
 
 From " Hymns of Astma, in Acrostic Verse" 
 
 Sir JOHN DaVIES, 75-99, Written in praise of Queen Elizabeth 
 
 I c 70— 1626. ""^ho is here addressed under the name of 
 
 Astreea. 
 
 E 
 
 'ARLY, cheerful, mounting Lark ! 
 Light's gentle usher! Morning's Clerk! 
 In merry notes delighting; 
 Stint awhile thy song, and hark, 
 And learn my new inditing ! 
 
 x ! 
 
 I 
 
 Bear up this Hymn ! to heaven, it bear 
 Even up to heaven, and sing it there 
 To heaven, each morning bear it ! 
 Have it set to some sweet sphere. 
 And let the angels hear it! 
 
 Renowned Astr^a, that great name ! 
 (Exceeding great in worth and fame, 
 Great worth hath so renowned it) 
 It is AsTRiEA's name I praise! 
 Now, then, sweet Lark! do thou it raise; 
 And in high heaven resound it ! 
 
—do ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 A MESSAGE TO PHILLIS. 
 
 Thomas HeYWOOD, This song is extracted from Heywood' s comedy 
 
 1575 ? - 1650 ? of'^ The Fair MaidoftJie Exchange" ibog. 
 
 YE little birds that sit and sing 
 Amidst the shady valleys, 
 And see how Phillis sweetly walks 
 
 Within her garden alleys; 
 Go, pretty birds, about her bower, 
 Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower. 
 Ah me ! methinks I see her frown. 
 Ye pretty wantons, warble. 
 
 Go tell her through your chirping bills, 
 
 As you by me are bidden. 
 To her is only known my love, 
 
 Which from the world is hidden: 
 Go, pretty birds, and tell her so, 
 See that your notes strain not too low; 
 
 For still methinks I see her frown. 
 Ye pretty wantons, warble. 
 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 6i- 
 
 \ Go tune your voices' harmony, 
 \ And sing I am her lover; 
 
 ( Strain loud and sweet, that every note 
 } With sweet content may move her: 
 
 I And she that hath the sweetest voice, 
 
 . Tell her I will not change my choice; 
 1 Yet still methinks I see her frown. 
 
 Ye pretty wantons, warble. 
 
 O fly, make haste, see, see, she falls 
 
 Into a pretty slumber. 
 Sing round about her rosy bed, 
 
 That waking she may wonder; 
 Say to her, 't is her lover true, 
 That sendeth love to you, to you ; 
 
 And when you have heard her kind reply. 
 Return with pleasant warblings. 
 
—62 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 
 IN PRAISE OF WINE. 
 
 From " Ritson's English Songs" 1783. This 
 
 song is, however, certainly older than I7S4, 
 
 and as remodelled in our own days, " They 
 
 Unknown. tell me I 've proved unkind to my Lass," is as 
 
 complete a statement of tJie superior advan- 
 tages of the flask as could be desired by its 
 most ardent advocate. 
 
 THE women all tell me 1 'm false to my lass, 
 That I quit my poor Chloe, and stick to my glass ; 
 But to you men of reason, my reasons I '11 own ; 
 And if you don't like them, why — let them alone. 
 
 Although I have left her, the truth I '11 declare ; 
 
 I believe she was good, and I 'm sure she was fair ; 
 
 But goodness and charms in a bumper I see, 
 
 That make it as good and as charming as she. ^ 
 
 My Chloe had dimples and smiles, I must own ; 
 
 But though she could smile, yet in truth she could frown ; 
 
 But tell me, ye lovers of liquor divine. 
 
 Did you e'er see a frown in a bumper of wine ? 
 
 Her lilies and roses were just in their prime ; 
 Yet hlies and roses are conquer'd by time : 
 But in wine, from its age such a benefit flows, 
 That we like it the better the older it grows. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 63- 
 
 They tell me my love would in time have been cloy'd, 
 And that beauty 's insipid when once 't is enjoy'd ; 
 But in wine I both time and enjoyment defy ; 
 For the longer I drink, the more thirsty am I. 
 
 Let murders, and battles, and history prove 
 The mischiefs that wait upon rivals in love ; 
 But in drinking, thank heaven, no rival contends. 
 For the more we love liquor, the more we are friends. 
 
 She, too, might have poison'd the joy of my life. 
 With nurses, and babies, and squalling, and strife 
 But my wine neither nurses nor babies can bring; 
 And a big-bellied bottle 's a mighty good thing. 
 
 We shorten our days when with love we engage. 
 
 It brings on diseases and hastens old age ; 
 
 But wine from grim death can its votaries save. 
 
 And keep out t' other leg when there 's one in the grave. 
 
 Perhaps Hke her sex, ever false to their word, 
 She had left me to get an estate, or a lord ; 
 But my bumper (regarding nor title nor pelf) 
 Will stand by me when I can't stand by myself. 
 
 Then let my dear Chloe no longer complain; 
 
 She 's rid of her lover, and I of my pain ; 
 
 For in wine, mighty wine, many comforts I spy; 
 
 Should you doubt what I say, take a bumper and try. 
 
^64 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 A FICTION. 
 
 HOW CUPID MADE A NYMPH WOUND HERSELF 
 WITH HIS ARROWS. 
 
 T/tzs beautiful pocDt, ivhich possesses a classical 
 
 elegance hardly to be expected in the age of 
 
 Francis Davison? James I., is printed from" a Poetical Rhap- 
 
 ir*7r? T^¥r»? * ^"'^y " ^^°^y where it appeared signed ' ' A no- 
 
 ^blb^ 1 1 9 r ^^^ . '. i^j^f j-f ^^ attributed by Bishop Percy to 
 
 Francis Davison. 
 
 IT chanced of late a shepherd's swain, 
 That went to seek a strayed sheep, 
 Within a thicket on the plain. 
 Espied a dainty nymph asleep. 
 
 Her golden hair o'erspread her face, 
 Her careless arms abroad were cast. 
 
 Her quiver had her pillow's place. 
 Her breast lay bare to every blast. 
 
 The shepherd stood and gazed his fill ; 
 
 Nought durst he do, nought durst he say ; 
 When chance, or else perhaps his will, 
 
 Did guide the god of Love that way. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 65— 
 
 The crafty boy that sees her sleep, 
 
 Whom if she waked, he durst not see, 
 Behind her closely seeks to creep, 
 
 Before her nap should ended be. 
 
 There come, he steals her shafts away, 
 
 And puts his own into their place; 
 Nor dares he any longer stay, 
 
 But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace. 
 
 Scarce was he gone, when she awakes, 
 
 And spies the shepherd standing by; 
 Her bended bow in haste she takes 
 
 And at the simple swain lets fly. 
 
 Forth flew the shaft, and pierced his heart. 
 
 That to the ground he fell with pain ; 
 Yet up again forthwith did start. 
 
 And to the nymph he ran amain. 
 
 Amazed to see so strange a sight. 
 
 She shot, and shot, but all in vain ; 
 The more his wounds, the more his might ; 
 
 Love yieldeth strength in midst of pain. 
 
 Her angry eyes are great with tears. 
 
 She blames her hands, she blames her skill; 
 
 The bluntness of her shaft she fears. 
 And try them on herself she will. 
 
 Take heed, sweet nymph ! try not thy shaft ; 
 
 Each little touch will prick thy heart, 
 Alas! thou know'st not Cupid's craft; 
 
 Revenge is joy, the end is smart. 
 5 
 
—66 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Yet try she will, and pierce some bare ; 
 
 Her hands were glov'd, but next to hand 
 Was that fair breast, that breast so rare. 
 
 That made the shepherd senseless stand. 
 
 That breast she pierced; and through that breast 
 Love finds an entry to her heart : 
 
 .At feeling of this new-come guest, 
 
 Lord! how the gentle nymph doth start! 
 
 She runs not now, she shoots no more. 
 Away she throws both shafts and bow: 
 
 She seeks for that she shunn'd before, 
 She thinks the shepherd's haste too slow. 
 
 Though mountains meet not, lovers may; 
 
 What other lovers do, did they: 
 The god of Love sate on a tree, 
 
 And laughed that pleasant sight to see. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 67- 
 
 AN OLD SONG OF AN OLD COURTIER 
 AND A NEW. 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 Modified in succeeding reigns, the ballad of 
 " The Queen {^Elizabeth^ s Old Courtier 
 and a New Courtier of the King [James] " 
 has already known two hundred and fifty 
 years' poptdariiy. The earliest printed copy 
 •was probably issued by T. Syrncocke, about 
 1626. The subject of this excellent old song is 
 a comparison between the manners of the old 
 gentry in the times of Elizabeth, and the 
 modern refinejnents affected by their sons in 
 the reigns of her successors. 
 
 WITH an old song made by an old ancient pate, 
 Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate; 
 Who kept an old house at a bountiful rate, 
 And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate. 
 
 Like ail old Courtier of the Queen's, 
 
 With an old lady whose anger one good word assuages, 
 
 Who every quarter pays her old servants their wages, 
 
 Who never knew what belongs to coachman, footmen, and 
 
 pages. 
 But kept twenty thrifty old fellows, with blue-coats and 
 
 badges. 
 
 Like an old Courtier of the Queen^s. 
 
—68 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 With an old study fill'd full of learned books, 
 
 With an old reverend parson, you may judge him by his 
 
 looks, 
 With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the old hooks, 
 And an old kitchen which maintains half a dozen old cooks ; 
 
 Like an old Courtier of the Queen's. 
 
 With an old hall hung round about with guns, pikes, and bows, 
 With old swords and bucklers, which hath borne many shrewd 
 
 blows, 
 And an old Frysadoe coat to cover his worship's trunk hose, 
 And a cup of old sherry to comfort his copper nose ; 
 
 Like an old Courtier of the Queen's. 
 
 With an old fashion, when Christ?nas is come. 
 To call in his neighbours with bag-pipe and drum. 
 And good cheer enough to furnish every old room, 
 And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and a wise man dumb ; 
 
 Like an old Courtier of the Queen's. 
 
 With an old hunts-man, a falconer, and a kennel of hounds ; 
 Which never hunted nor hawked but in his own grounds, 
 Who like an old wise man kept himself within his own bounds, 
 And when he died gave every child a thousand old pounds ; 
 
 Like an old Courtier of the Queen's. 
 
 But to his eldest son his house and land he assigned. 
 Charging him in his will to keep the same bountiful mind, 
 To be good to his servants, and to his neighbours kind. 
 But in th' ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclined ; 
 Like a young Courtier of the King's. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 6g— 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 Like a young gallant newly come to his land, 
 That keeps a brace of creatures at -'s own command, 
 And takes up a thousand pounds upon 's own band. 
 And lieth drunk in a new tavern till he can neither go nor stand ; 
 
 Like a young Courtier of the Ki?ig^s. 
 
 With a neat lady that is fresh and fair, 
 Who never knew what belonged to good housekeeping or care, 
 But buys several fans to play with the wanton air. 
 And seventeen or eighteen dressings of other women's hair; 
 Like a young Courtier of the King^s. 
 
 With a new hall built where the old one stood. 
 Wherein is burned neither coal nor wood. 
 And a new shuffle-board-table where never meat stood. 
 Hung round with pictures which doth the poor little good, 
 
 Like a young Courtier of the Ki7ig's. 
 
 With a new study stuffed full of pamphlets and plays. 
 With a new chaplain that swears faster than he prays. 
 With a new buttery-hatch that opens once in four or five days, 
 With a new French cook to make kick-shawes and tayes; 
 
 Like a young Courtier of the King^s. 
 
 With a new fashion when Christmas is come. 
 With a journey up to London we must be gone, 
 And leave nobody at home but our new porter John, 
 Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone ; 
 
 Like a young Courtier of the King's, 
 
—70 ANTIDOTE A GAINST MEIANCHOL V. 
 
 With a gentleman-usher whose carriage is complete, 
 With a footman, a coachman, a page to carry meat, 
 With, a waiting gentlewoman whose dressing is very neat. 
 Who when the master has dined gives the servants little meat ; 
 Zi^e a young Courtier of the King^s. 
 
 With a new honour bought with his father's old gold. 
 That many of his father's old manors hath sold. 
 And this is the occasion that most men do hold, 
 That good housekeeping is now-a-days grown so cold; 
 
 Like a young Courtier of the King's. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 71- 
 
 THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. 
 
 Old songs have rarely, if ever, been modernized 
 so successfully as the foregoing 07ie of " The 
 Queen's old Courtier" and " The Fine old 
 English Gentleman," is no unworthy repre- 
 sentative. Popular though it was, thirty or 
 forty years ago, it is ?iot easily met with now ; 
 on which account we hope we may be excused 
 for adding it here. 
 
 I'LL sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate, 
 Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate. 
 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 gentlema7i^ 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. 
 
—72 ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL Y. 
 
 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. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 73- 
 
 OLDEN LOVE-MAKING. 
 
 Nicholas Breton, 
 1 542-1626? 
 
 NicJiolas Breton was a writer of some fame in 
 the reign of Elizabeth. He is tnentioned with 
 great respect by Meres in his second part of 
 "Wit's Commonwealth," isq8 ; and is alluded 
 to in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Scornful 
 Lady" actii. 
 
 IN time of yore, when shepherds dwelt 
 Upon the mountain rocks: 
 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; 
 
■--74 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 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. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 75- 
 
 IN THE GLOAMING. 
 
 C. S. CaLVERLEY, From '' Fly Leaves, Ninth Edition. London, 
 
 1831-1884. 1883." 
 
 IN the gloaming to be roaming, where the crested waves 
 are foaming, 
 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 
 balmorals, 
 An arrangement no one quarrels with, as many might with 
 scales. 
 
 Sweet to roam beneath a shady cliff, of course with some 
 young lady, 
 Lalage, Neaera, 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 stufif 
 one can. 
 
— 7d ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOL V. 
 
 Sweet to haste a licensed lover, to Miss Pinkerton the glover, 
 Having managed to discover what is dear Nesera's " size " : 
 
 P'raps to touch that wrist so slender, as your tiny gift you tender, 
 And to read you 're no offender, in those laughing hazel eyes. 
 
 Then to hear her call you " Harry," when she makes you fetch 
 and carry — 
 O young men about to marry, what a blessed thing it is ! 
 To be photographed — together — cased in pretty Russian 
 leather — 
 Hear her gravely doubting whether they have spoilt your 
 honest phiz. 
 
 Then to bring your plighted fair one first a ring — a rich and 
 
 rare one — 
 
 Next a bracelet, if she '11 wear one, and a heap of things 
 
 beside ; 
 
 And serenely bending o'er her, to inquire if it would bore her. 
 
 To say when her own adorer may aspire to call her bride ! 
 
 Then, the days of courtship over, with your wife to start for 
 Dover 
 Or Dieppe — and live in clover evermore, whate'er befalls: 
 For I 've read in many a novel that, unless they 've souls that 
 grovel. 
 Folks prefer in fact a hovel, to your dreary marble halls : 
 
 To sit, happy married lovers ; Phyllis trifling with a plover's 
 Egg, while Cory don uncovers with a grace the Sally Lunn, 
 
 Or dissects the lucky pheasant — that, I think, were passing 
 pleasant ; 
 As I sit alone at present, dreaming darkly of a Dun. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 77— 
 
 THE DUMB MAID. 
 
 This merry ditty has continued to enjoy favour 
 
 to the present time, li?igering in many a 
 
 quiet country nook, and adding point to innu- 
 
 TTivTTi'Mn-vxrM merable sarcasms against the not " rara avis 
 
 u JN K« u WIN . ^.^ z-^rra " a Scolding Wife.— Our copy is from 
 
 a black-letter ballad printed about J6j8, aTtd 
 included in the Roxburghe Collection in the 
 British Museum.. 
 
 ALL you that pass along, give ear unto my song, 
 Concerning a Youth that was young, young, young; 
 And a maiden fair, few with her might compare, 
 But alack, and alas / she was dumb, dumb, dmnb. 
 
 She was beauteous, fresh, and gay, Hke the pleasant flowers in 
 May, 
 And her cheeks were as round as a plum, plum, plum, 
 
 I She was neat in every part, and she stole away his heart ; 
 But alack, and alas I she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 
 Th 
 I 
 
 At length this Country Blade wedded this pretty Maid, 
 And he kindly conducted her home, home, home. 
 
 Thus in her beauty bright lay all his whole delight; 
 But alack, and alas I she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 
 
— /c? ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Now will I plainly show what work this maid could do, 
 Which a pattern may be for girls young, young, young. 
 
 O she, both day and night, in working took delight. 
 But alack^ and alas ! she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 
 
 She could brew and she could bake, she could wash, wring, 
 and shake. 
 
 She could sweep the house with a broom, broom, broom; 
 She could knit, and sew, and spin, and do any such like thing. 
 
 But alack, and alas ! she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 
 
 But at last this man did go, the doctor's skill to know. 
 Saying, " Sir, can you cure a woman of the dumb, dumb, 
 dumb?" 
 
 " O it is the easiest part that belongs unto my art. 
 For to cure any woman of the dionb, dumb, dumb." 
 
 To the doctor he did her bring, and he cut her chattering-string. 
 And he quickly set her tongue on the run, run, run. 
 
 In the morning she did rise, and she filled his house with cries. 
 And she rattled in his ears like a drum, drum, drum. 
 
 To the doctor he did go, with his heart well filled with woe. 
 Crying, " Doctor, I am certainly undone, done, done ! 
 
 Now she 's turned a scolding wife, and I 'm weary of my life, 
 Nor I cannot make her hold her tongue, tongue, tongue / " 
 
 The doctor thus did say, " When she went from me away, 
 She was perfectly cured of the dumb, dumb, dumb ; 
 
 But it 's beyond the art of man, let him do the best he can. 
 For to make a scolding woman hold her tofigue, tongue, 
 tongue." 
 
ANTIDOTE A GAINST MEIANCHOI V. yg— 
 
 THE HUNT IS UP." 
 
 A mong the favorites of Hetiry VIII. , Putten- 
 
 ham, in his ^^ Arte of English Poesie," isSg, 
 
 notices " one Gray, for making certain merry 
 
 ballades, whereof one chiefly was, ' The hunte 
 
 Uncertain ^ ^■^' ^^ hu?ite is up.'" it may be that the 
 
 follo7ving song is the very one written by 
 Gray, since ^' Harry our King" is twice men- 
 tioned in it. A ny song intettded to arouse in 
 the -morning — even a love song — was for- 
 merly called a " hunt 's up." 
 
 THE hunt is up, the hunt is up, 
 And it is well nigh day; 
 And Harry our King is gone hunting, 
 To bring his deer to bay. 
 
 The east is bright with morning light, 
 
 And darkness it is fled. 
 And the merie home wakes up the morne 
 
 To leave his idle bed. 
 
 Behold the skyes with golden dyes 
 
 Are glowing all around, 
 The grasse is greene, and so are the treene 
 
 All laughing at the sound. 
 
—8o ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 
 
 The horses snort to be at the sport, 
 The dogges are running free, 
 
 The woddes rejoyce at the mery noise 
 Of hey tantara tee ree ! 
 
 The sunne is glad to see us clad 
 
 All in our lustie greene, 
 And smiles in the skye as he riseth hye. 
 
 To see and to be seene. 
 
 Awake, all men, I say agen, 
 
 Be mery as you maye, 
 For Harry our King is gone hunting. 
 
 To bring his deere to baye. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 8i— 
 
 ON AN OLD MUFF. 
 
 Frederick Locker This poem by Mr. Locker was first published in 
 
 -T) .o_. ' 1863, and is taken from ^'Loitdon Lyrics" — 
 
 Born I82I. (latest edition, i»r(». 
 
 TIME has a magic wand! 
 What is this meets my hand, 
 Moth-eaten, mouldy, and 
 
 Covered with fluff? 
 Faded, and stiff, and scant ; 
 Can it be ? no, it can't — 
 Yes, — I declare 't is Aunt 
 Prudence's Muff! 
 
 Years ago — twenty-three ! 
 Old Uncle Barnaby 
 Gave it to Aunty P. — 
 
 Laughing and teasing — 
 " Pru., of the breezy curls, 
 Whisper these solemn churls. 
 What holds a pretty girl's 
 
 Hand without squeezing ?^^ 
 
-82 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 Uncle was then a lad 
 Gay, but, I grieve to add, 
 Sinful : if smoking bad 
 
 Baccy 's a vice : 
 Glossy was then this mink 
 Muff, lined with pretty pink 
 Satin, which maidens think 
 
 "Awfully nice!" 
 
 I see, in retrospect. 
 
 Aunt, in her best bedecked, 
 
 Gliding, with mien erect. 
 
 Gravely to Meeting : 
 Psalm-book, and kerchief new. 
 Peeped from the muff of Pru. — 
 Young men — and pious, too — 
 
 Giving her greeting. 
 
 Pure was the life she led 
 
 Then — from this Muff, 't is said. 
 
 Tracts she distributed: — 
 
 Scapegraces many. 
 Seeing the grace they lacked, 
 Followed her — one, in fact. 
 Asked for — and got his tract 
 
 Oftener than any. 
 
 Love has a potent spell! 
 Soon this bold ne'er-do-well, 
 Aunt's sweet susceptible 
 
 Heart undermining. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 83— 
 
 Slipped, so the scandal runs, 
 Notes in the pretty nun's 
 Muff — triple-cornered ones — 
 Pink as its lining ! 
 
 Worse even, soon the jade, 
 Fled (to oblige her blade !) 
 Whilst her friends thought that they 'd 
 
 Locked her up tightly : 
 After such shocking games 
 Aunt is of wedded dames 
 Gayest — and now her name 's 
 
 Mrs. Golightly. 
 
 In female conduct flaw 
 Sadder I never saw. 
 Still I Ve faith in the law 
 
 Of compensation. 
 Once Uncle went astray — 
 Smoked, joked, and swore away — 
 Sworn by he 's now, by a 
 
 Large congregation! 
 
 Changed is the Child of Sin, 
 Now he 's (he once was thin) 
 Grave, with a double chin, — 
 
 Blest be his fat form! 
 Changed is the garb he wore, — 
 Preacher was never more 
 Prized than is Uncle for 
 
 Pulpit or platform. 
 
-84 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 
 
 If all 's as best befits 
 Mortals of slender wits, 
 Then beg this Muff, and its 
 
 Fair owner, pardon: 
 Airs for the best, — indeed. 
 Such is my simple creed, — 
 Still I must go and weed 
 
 Hard in my garden. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 85— 
 
 KING OBERON'S FEAST. 
 
 This poem was printed in 'M Description of 
 
 the King and Queen of Fairies ; tJieir habit, 
 
 fare, their abode, pomp, and state. Being 
 
 Robert HeRRICK very delightful to the setise, and full of mirth." 
 
 g/-_ ' i(>35- The ^^ Feast," tJie only one, of the sev- 
 
 1591 1074. eral poems contained in this book, which can 
 
 be assigned with absohite certainty to Herrick, 
 was, it is believed, the poet's earliest appear- 
 ance in print. 
 
 A LITTLE mushroom-table spread, 
 After short prayers, they set on bread; 
 A moon-parch'd grain of purest wheat, 
 With some small glitt'ring grit, to eat 
 His choice bits with; then in a trice 
 They make a feast less great than nice. 
 But all this while his eye is served. 
 We must not think his ear was starved : 
 But that there was in place to stir 
 His spleen, the chirping Grasshopper; 
 The merry Cricket, puling Fly, 
 The piping Gnat for minstrelsy. 
 And now, we must imagine first. 
 The Elves present to quench his thirst 
 A pure seed-pearl of infant dew. 
 Brought and besweeten'd in a blue 
 
—86 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 And pregnant violet; which done, 
 
 His kitUng^ eyes begin to run 
 
 Quite through the table, where he spies 
 
 The horns of papery butterflies : 
 
 Of which he eats, and tastes a little 
 
 Of what we call the cuckoo-spittle.^ 
 
 A little fuz-balP pudding stands 
 
 By, yet not blessed by his hands, 
 
 That was too coarse; but then forthwith 
 
 He ventures boldly on the pith 
 
 Of sugared rush, and eats the sag 
 
 And well bestrutted* bee's sweet bag: 
 
 Gladding^ his palate with some store 
 
 Of Emmet's ^ eggs : what would he more ? 
 
 But beards of mice, a newt's "^ stewed thigh, 
 
 A bloated ear- wig, and a fly; 
 
 With the red-capped worm, that 's shut 
 
 Within the concave of a nut. 
 
 Brown as his tooth. A little moth, 
 
 Late fatten' d in a piece of cloth : 
 
 With withered cherries ; mandrakes' ears ; 
 
 Moles' eyes; to these, the slain-stag's tears; 
 
 The unctuous dewlaps of a snail; 
 
 1 Eyes like kittens (green). 
 
 2 The white froth which encloses the larva of the cicada spumaria. 
 ^ Puff-balls, or fungus. 
 
 * " Sag" means "heavy," so as to hang down. The meaning here is — 
 He eats the pith of the sweet " Rush " and the bag of the bee. The flight 
 of a bee to her hive is thus graphically described — i. e., ^^ sagged down " with 
 the weight of her spoils. The word bestrutted is equally descriptive of the 
 laden bee labouring along, with legs stuck out, like " struts," or props. 
 
 * Pleasing, /. e., tickling. ^ Ant. '' Small lizard. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 87— 
 
 I 
 
 The broke-heart of a nightingale 
 
 O'ercome in musick; with a wine, 
 
 Ne'er ravish'd from the flatt'ring vine, 
 
 But gently pressed from the soft side 
 
 Of the most sweet and dainty bride, 
 
 Brought in a dainty daisy, which 
 
 He fully quaffs up to bewitch 
 
 His blood to height; this done, commended 
 
 Grace by his Priest ; the feast is ended. 
 
—88 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 A CHRISTMAS SONG. 
 
 T/ie old almanacks occasionally contained carols. 
 Unknown. The following is from ^^ Poor Robin's Al- 
 
 manack "for i6gs. 
 
 NOW thrice welcome Christmas, 
 Which brings us good cheer, 
 Minc'd pies and plum-porridge, 
 
 Good ale and strong beer ; 
 With pig, goose, and capon, 
 
 The best that can be. 
 So well doth the weather 
 And our stomachs agree. 
 
 Observe how the chimnies 
 
 Do smoke all about. 
 The cooks are providing 
 
 For dinner, no doubt; 
 But those on whose tables 
 
 No victuals appear, 
 O may they keep Lent 
 
 All the rest of the year ! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 8g-^ 
 
 With holly and ivy 
 
 So green and so gay ; 
 We deck up our houses 
 
 As fresh as the day, 
 With bays and rosemary 
 
 And laurel complete, 
 And every one now 
 
 Is a king in conceit. 
 
—go ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 TO DAFFODILS. 
 
 Robert HeRRICK Surely there is no floiver-poem at once so 
 
 _z-^ weighty and so siveet, so lovely and also im- 
 
 *5"^ * /'+• pressive, so consummate in its art and endur- 
 
 ing in its charm as this one o/Herrick's. 
 
 FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see 
 You haste away so soon : 
 As yet the early-rising sun 
 Has not attained his noon. 
 
 Stay, stay 
 Until the hasting day 
 
 Has run 
 But to the even-song; 
 And, having prayed together, we 
 Will go with you along. 
 
 We have short time to stay, as you, 
 
 We have as short a Spring; 
 As quick a growth to meet decay, 
 
 As you or any thing. 
 We die, 
 
 As your hours do, and dry 
 Away, 
 
 Like to the summer's rain; 
 Or as the pearls of morning's dew. 
 
 Ne'er to be found again. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, pi— 
 
 THE CHILD MUSICIAN. 
 
 Austin DoBSON, From " l^z^^ftei^est'nUA^me," iS-jj. 
 
 Born 1840. 
 
 HE had played for his lordship's levee, 
 He had played for her ladyship's whim, 
 Till the poor little head was heavy. 
 And the poor little brain would swim. 
 
 And the face grew peaked and eerie, 
 And the large eyes strange and bright, 
 
 And they said — too late — " He is weary! 
 He shall rest for, at least. To-night! " 
 
 But at dawn, when the birds were waking, 
 As they watched in the silent room. 
 
 With the sound of a strained cord breaking, 
 A something snapped in the gloom. 
 
 'T was a string of his violoncello. 
 
 And they heard him stir in his bed : — 
 
 ' Make room for a tired little fellow. 
 
 Kind God ! " — was the last that he said. 
 
—p2 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 THE BITER BIT. 
 
 A PARODY. ^ 
 
 "The Biter Bit," from the "Bon Gaultier 
 Ballads," 1845, by Theodore Martin and 
 Professor Aytoun, is a kind of burlesque 
 continuation of the "May Queen," the tender 
 pathos of the original being turned into cynical 
 indifference, "whilst preserving a great simi- 
 larity of style and versificaiion. 
 
 THE sun is in the sky, mother, the flowers are springing 
 fair, 
 And the melody of woodland birds is stirring in the air; 
 The river, smiling to the sky, glides onward to the sea, 
 And happiness is everywhere, oh mother, but with me! 
 
 They are going to the church, mother, — I hear the marriage 
 
 bell; 
 It rises o'er the upland, — it haunts me like a knell; 
 He leads her on his arm, mother, he cheers her faltering step, 
 And she clings closely to his side, she does, the demirep! 
 
 They are crossing by the stile, mother, where we so oft have 
 
 stood, — 
 The stile beside the thorn at the corner of the wood ; 
 The boughs, that oft have echoed back the words that won 
 
 my ear, 
 Now bend their blossoms o'er him as he leads his bridal fere. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, pj- 
 
 He will pass beside the stream, mother, where first my hand 
 
 he pressed, 
 By the meadow where, with quivering Hp, his passion he 
 
 confessed ; 
 And down the hedgerows where we 've strayed again and 
 
 yet again; 
 Yet he will not think of me, mother, his broken-hearted Jane ! 
 
 He said that I was proud, mother, he said I looked for gold ; 
 He said I did not love him, — that my words were few and 
 
 cold; 
 He said I kept him off and on, in hopes of higher game, — 
 And it may be that I did, mother; but who has n't done the 
 
 same ? 
 
 I did not know my heart, mother, — I know it now too late ; 
 I thought that I without a pang could wed some nobler mate ; 
 But no nobler suitor sought me, — and he has gone elsewhere. 
 And my heart is gone, and I am left to wither in despair. 
 
 You may lay me in my bed, mother, my head is throbbing sore ; 
 And, mother, prithee let the sheets be duly aired before ; 
 And, if you would do pleasure to your poor desponding child, 
 Draw me a pot of beer, mother, and, mother, draw it mild ! 
 
-94 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 
 
 THE JOLLY BACCHANAL. 
 
 Unknown. From " Walsh's British Musical Miscellany. 
 
 LET 'S tope and be merry, be jolly and cherry, 
 Since here is good wine, good wine ; 
 Let 's laugh at the fools that live by dull rules. 
 And at us good fellows repine, 
 
 And at us good fellows repine.- 
 
 Here, here, are delights to amuse the dull nights, 
 
 And equal a man with a god; 
 To enliven the clay, drive all care away. 
 
 Without which a man 's but a clod. 
 
 Then let us be willing to spend t' other shilling, 
 
 Since money we know is but dirt; 
 It suits no design like paying for wine, 
 
 T' other bottle will do us no hurt. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, ps- 
 
 UNFADING BEAUTY. 
 
 Thomas Carevv, 
 I 589-1639. 
 
 T/tis beautiful little sonnet is reprinted from a 
 S7nall vohtme entitled '■^ Poems by Thomas 
 Carew, Esq., one 0/ the gentlemen of the 
 privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his 
 majesty. London, 1640." We have omitted 
 the third stanza as not being of equal merit. 
 
 HE, that loves a rosy cheek, 
 Or a coral lip admires, 
 Or from star-like eyes doth seek 
 
 Fuel to maintain his fires, 
 As old time makes these decay, 
 So his flames must waste away. 
 
 But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
 Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 
 
 Hearts with equal love combined. 
 Kindle never-dying fires. 
 
 Where these are not, I despise 
 
 Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. 
 
—g6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 TO CHLOE JEALOUS. 
 
 Matthew Prior, 
 I 664-1 72 I. 
 
 DEAR Chloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face ! 
 Thy cheek all on fire and thy hair all uncurl'd! 
 Prithee quit this caprice, and (as old Falstaff says) 
 Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world. 
 
 How canst thou presume thou hast leave to destroy 
 The beauties which Venus but lent to thy keeping ? 
 
 Those looks were design'd to inspire love and joy : 
 More ord'nary eyes may serve people for weeping. 
 
 To be vexed at a trifle or two that I writ, 
 
 Your judgment at once, and my passion you wrong : 
 
 You take that for fact which will scarce be found wit : 
 Odslife ! must one swear to the truth of a song ? 
 
 What I speak, my fair Chloe, and what I write shows 
 The diff'rence there is betwixt nature and art: 
 
 I court others in verse ; but I love thee in prose : 
 And they have my whimsies, but thou hast my heart. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. p/— 
 
 The God of us verse men (you know child) the Sun, 
 How after his journeys he sets up his rest : 
 
 If at morning o'er earth 't is his fancy to run ; 
 At night he reclines on his Thetis's breast. 
 
 So when I am wearied with wand'ring all day; 
 
 To thee my delight in the evening I come: 
 No matter what beauties I saw in my way : 
 
 They were but my visits ; but thou art my home. 
 
 Then finish, dear Chloe, this pastoral war; 
 
 And let us like Horace and Lydia agree: 
 For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, 
 
 As he was a poet sublimer than me. 
 
.g8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 THE CONSTITUTION AND THE GUERRIERE. 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 The naval battle which this song celebrates 
 was fought on A ugust iqth, 1S12, between the 
 Atnerican frigate ConsiHuiion, commanded 
 by Captain Isaac Hull, and his Britannic 
 Majesty' s frigate Guerriere, Captain Dacres; 
 — after a severe and bloody engagement last- 
 ing only half an hour the latter surrendered. 
 
 I 
 
 OFTEN have been told, 
 That the British seamen bold 
 Could beat the tars of France, neat and handy, O; 
 But they never found their match, 
 Till the Yankees did them catch — 
 For the Yankee tars for fighting are the dandy, O ! 
 
 O, the Guerriere so bold. 
 
 On the foaming ocean roll'd, 
 Commanded by Dacres the grandee, O ! 
 
 With as choice a British crew 
 
 As a rammer ever drew. 
 They could beat the Frenchmen two to one, so handy, O ! 
 
 When this frigate hove in view; 
 " O," said Dacres to his crew, 
 
 ■ Prepare ye for action and be handy, O : 
 
 On the weather-gauge we '11 get her. 
 And to make the men fight better 
 
 We will give to them gunpowder and good brandy, O." 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, pp— 
 
 Now this boasting Briton cries, 
 " Make that Yankee ship your prize, 
 You can in thirty minutes do it handy, O : 
 
 Or in twenty-five I 'm sure ; 
 
 If you '11 do it in a score, 
 I '11 give you a double share of good brandy, O. 
 
 " When prisoners we 've made them. 
 With switchel we will treat them ; 
 
 We '11 welcome them with Yankee Doodle Dandy, O " : 
 O, the British balls flew hot, 
 But the Yankees answered not. 
 
 Until they got a distance that was handy, O. 
 
 " O," cries Hull unto his crew, 
 " We will try what we can do : 
 If we beat those boasting Britons we 're the dandy, O." 
 The first broadside we pour'd 
 Brought the mizzen by the board, 
 Which doused the royal ensign quite handy, O. 
 
 O, Dacres he did sigh, 
 And to his officers did cry, 
 " O ! I did n't think the Yankees were so handy, O." 
 The second told so well. 
 That the fore and main-mast fell, 
 That made this lofty frigate look quite dandy, O. 
 
 "O!" said Dacres, "we 're undone": 
 
 So he fires a lee gun. 
 And the drummers struck up Yankee Doodle Dandy, O. 
 
 When Dacres came on board. 
 
 To deliver up his sword 
 He was loth to part with it, it look'd so handy, O. 
 
—lOO ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 " You may keep it," says brave Hull ; 
 " What makes you look so dull ? 
 Cheer up and take a glass of good brandy, O." 
 O, Britons now be still, 
 Since we 've hook'd you in the gill : 
 Don't boast upon your Dacres, the grandee, O. 
 
 Come, fill your glasses full, 
 
 And we '11 drink to Captain Hull, 
 
 And so merrily we '11 push about the brandy, O. 
 John Bull may toast his fill. 
 Let the world say what it will. 
 
 But the Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, O. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. loi— 
 
 "COME, SHEPHERDS, DECK YOUR HEADS.' 
 
 This is one of the songs mentioned by genial old 
 
 Izaak Walton in '■'The Complete Angler," 
 
 1633. — Milkwoman: " What song was it, I 
 
 Unknown. pray? was it ^ Come, shepherds, deck your 
 
 heads' ; or, 'As, at noon Dulcina rested' ; 
 or, ' Phillida flouts me' ; or, ' Chevy Chace' ; 
 or, 'Johnny A rmstrong' ; or, * Troy Town ' ?" 
 
 COME, Shepherds, deck your heads 
 No more with bays but willows ; 
 Forsake your downy beds, 
 
 And make the downs your pillows : 
 And mourn with me, since crossed 
 
 As never yet was no man, 
 For shepherd never lost 
 So plain a dealing woman. 
 
 All ye forsaken wooers. 
 
 That ever care oppressed. 
 And all you lusty dooers, 
 
 That ever love distressed, 
 That losses can condole, 
 
 And all together summon; 
 Oh! mourn for the poor soul 
 
 Of my plain-dealing woman. 
 
-I02 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 . ^ , . Fair «V.e]3US :made her chaste, 
 
 ' ^ An<i«'Ge^^§ beauty gave her; 
 \ % c* . * ; vPan^ >^ept wheri she was lost, 
 .:: c> t.'^ ^.^ The'Satyis strove to have her; 
 Yet seem'd she to their view- 
 So coy, so nice, that no man 
 Could judge, but he that knew 
 My own plain-dealing woman. 
 
 At all her pretty parts 
 
 I ne'er enough can wonder; 
 She overcame all hearts. 
 
 Yet she all hearts came under; 
 Her inward mind was sweet. 
 
 Good tempers ever common; 
 Shepherd shall never meet 
 
 So plain a dealing woman. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 103— 
 
 THE BROWN JUG. 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable that the two best 
 
 Rev. Francis FaWKES drinking songs in otir language were both by 
 
 T-TOT TTT'T ' clergy tnen; the following by Rev. Francis 
 
 i-jzi 1 777. Fawkes, and that on page i8 by John Still, 
 
 bishop of Bath and Wells ; IS43-1607. 
 
 DEAR TOM, this brown jug, that now foams with mild ale, 
 (In which I will drink to sweet Nan of the Vale) 
 Was once Toby Fillpot, a thirsty old soul 
 As e'er drank a bottle or fathomed a bowl; 
 In boosing about 'twas his praise to excel. 
 And among jolly topers he bore off the bell. 
 
 It chanced, as in dog-days he sat at his ease. 
 In his flower-woven arbour, as gay as you please. 
 With a friend and a pipe, puffing sorrows away. 
 And with honest old Stingo was soaking his clay. 
 His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut, 
 And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt. 
 
 His body when long in the ground it had lain. 
 
 And time into clay had resolved it again, 
 
 A potter found out in its covert so snug, 
 
 And with part of fat Toby he formed this brown jug; 
 
 Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale. 
 
 So here 's to my lovely sweet Nan of the Vale. 
 
.104 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 THE LOVE PAETING. 
 
 ^^ From. Aftacreon down to Moore" says 
 
 Michael Drayton, Henry Reed speaking of this sonmt, "/ 
 
 -■ -. ' know of no lines on t/ie old subject of lovers 
 
 ^ 5^3~^ ^7> * • quarrels distinguished for equal tenderness of 
 
 sentiment and richness of fancy. " 
 
 SINCE there 's no help, come let us kiss and part, — 
 Nay, I have done, you get no more of me ; 
 And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart. 
 That thus so cleanly I myself can free; 
 Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows, 
 And when we meet at any time again. 
 Be it not seen in either of our brows 
 That we one jot of former love retain. 
 Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath, 
 When, his pulse failing. Passion speechless Hes, 
 When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, 
 And Innocence is closing up his eyes, — 
 Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over. 
 From death to life thou might'st him yet recover ! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 105— 
 
 LOVE'S ANNIVERSARY. 
 
 To THE Sun. 
 
 From " Castara : The Third Edition. Cor- 
 
 WlLLIAM HaBINGTON, rected and augmented. 1640:' This work, 
 
 ifioc-ifi/ic ^'^ one 0/ the fnost elegant monuments ever 
 
 J~ 45* raised by genius to conjugal affection," says 
 
 Mrs. Jameson, was first published in 1634. 
 
 THOU art returned, great light, to that blest hour 
 In which I first by marriage, sacred power, 
 Joined with Castara heart: and as the same 
 Thy lustre is, as then, so is our flame; 
 Which had increased, but that by love's decree 
 'T was such at first it ne'er could greater be. 
 But tell me, glorious lamp, in thy survey 
 Of things below thee, what did not decay 
 By age to weakness? I since that have seen 
 The rose bud forth and fade, the tree grow green 
 And wither, and the beauty of the field 
 With winter wrinkled. Even thyself doth yield 
 Something to time, and to thy grave fall nigher; — 
 But virtuous love is one sweet endless fire. 
 
—io6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 PHYLLIDA, THAT LOVED TO DREAM." 
 
 John Gay, 
 I 688-1 732. 
 
 PHYLLIDA, that loved to dream 
 In the grove, or by the stream ; 
 Sigh'd on velvet pillow. 
 What, alas ! should fill her head, 
 But a fountain, or a mead, 
 Water and a willow ? 
 
 Love in cities never dwells. 
 He delights in rural cells 
 
 Which sweet woodbine covers. 
 What are your assemblies then ? 
 There 't is true, we see more men ; 
 
 But much fewer lovers. 
 
 O, how changed the prospect grows! 
 Flocks and herds to fops and beaux, 
 
 Coxcombs without number! 
 Moon and stars that shone so bright; 
 To the torch and waxen light, 
 
 And whole nights at ombre. ^ 
 
 A fashionable game of the period. 
 
 I 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 107- 
 
 Pleasant as it is to hear 
 Scandal tickling in our ear, 
 
 E'en of our own mothers; 
 In the chit-chat of the day 
 To us is paid, when we 're away. 
 
 What we lent to others. 
 
 Though the favourite Toast I reign, 
 Wine, they say, that prompts the vain, 
 
 Heightens defamation. 
 Must I live 'twixt spite and fear. 
 Every day grow handsomer. 
 
 And lose my reputation ? 
 
 'Thus the fair to sighs gave way, 
 Her empty purse beside her lay. 
 
 Nymph, ah! cease thy sorrow. 
 Though curst Fortune frown to-night, 
 This odious town can give delight. 
 
 If you win to-morrow. 
 
—io8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 SONG OF IN-THE-WATER. 
 
 Longfellow's "Song- of Hiawatha " certainly 
 invites parody, and its easy metre is readily 
 
 H. ChOLMONDELEY— PeNNELL. 'g^oflar, ^auTkZTk ^Tvefs^cat^fn^^'^Tke 
 
 following imitation of it is from ' ' Fuck on 
 Pegasus." Lottdon, jS68. 
 
 WHEN the summer night descended, 
 Sleepy on the White-witch water, 
 Came a Hthe and lovely maiden, 
 Gazing on the silent water — 
 Gazing on the gleaming river — 
 With her azure eyes and tender, — 
 On the river glancing forward, 
 Till the am'rous wave sprang upward. 
 Upward from his reedy hollow, 
 With the lily in his bosom, 
 With his crown of water-lilies — 
 Curling ev'ry dimpled ripple 
 As he sprang into the starlight. 
 As he clasped her charmed reflection 
 Glowing to his crystal bosom — 
 As he whispered, " Fairest, fairest. 
 Rest upon this crystal bosom ! " 
 
 And she straightway did according : — 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 109- 
 
 Down into the water stept she, 
 Down into the wavering river, 
 Like a red deer in the sunset — 
 Like a ripe leaf in the Autumn : 
 From her Hps, as rose-buds snow-filled, 
 Came a soft and dreamy murmur. 
 Softer than the breath of summer. 
 
 Softer than the murm'ring river. 
 
 Than the cooing of Cushawa, — 
 Sighs that melted as the snows melt, 
 
 Silently and sweetly melted; 
 Sounds that mingled with the crisping 
 
 Foam upon the billows resting: 
 
 Yet she spoke not, only murmured. 
 
 From the forest shade primeval, 
 Piggey-Wiggey looked out at her; 
 
 He, the very Youthful Porker — 
 
 He, the Everlasting Grunter — 
 Gazed upon her there, and wondered ! 
 
 With his nose out, Rokey-pokey — 
 
 And his tail up, Curley-wurley, 
 Wondered what on earth the joke was. 
 Wondered what the girl was up to. 
 What the deuce her little game was. 
 Why she did n't squeak and grunt more ! 
 
 And she floated down the river, 
 
 Like a water-proof Ophelia, 
 
 For her Crinoline sustained her. 
 
'iio ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 GOD REST YOU, MERRY GENTLEMEN. 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 There is no carol, per Jiaps, so universally known 
 as this. Many who have heard no other are 
 familiar with this, and speak of it as The 
 Christinas Carol. While there are several 
 variations in the different copies of this carol, 
 the version here printed seems t/ie most gener- 
 ally received, atid is perhaps the most genuine. 
 
 GOD rest you, merry gentlemen, 
 Let nothing you dismay. 
 Remember Christ, our Saviour, 
 Was born on Christmas-day; 
 To save us all from Satan's power, 
 When we were gone astray. 
 O tidings of comfort and Joy, 
 For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was 
 Born of Christmas -day . 
 
 In Bethlehem, in Jewry, 
 This blessed babe was born, 
 
 And laid within a manger 
 Upon this blessed mom; 
 
 The which His mother Mary 
 Did nothing take in scorn. 
 O tidings, etc. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, in— 
 
 From God, our Heavenly Father, 
 
 A blessed Angel came, 
 And unto certain shepherds 
 
 Brought tidings of the same ; 
 That there was born in Bethlehem 
 
 The Son of God by name. 
 O tidings, etc. 
 
 ** Fear not," then said the Angel, 
 " Let nothing you affright, 
 For there is born in Bethlehem 
 
 Of a pure Virgin bright, 
 One able to advance you. 
 
 And throw down Satan quite." 
 O tidings, etc. 
 
 The shepherds, at those tidings. 
 
 Rejoiced much in mind. 
 And left their flocks a-feeding 
 
 In tempest, storm, and wind. 
 And straightway went to Bethlehem 
 
 The Son of God to find. 
 O tidings, etc. 
 
 But when they came to Bethlehem, 
 
 Where as this Infant lay. 
 They found Him in a manger, 
 
 Where oxen feed on hay. 
 His mother Mary kneeling down. 
 
 Unto the Lord did pray. 
 O tidings, etc. 
 
—112 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 With sudden joy and gladness 
 The shepherds were beguiled, 
 
 To see the Babe of Israel, 
 Before His mother mild. 
 
 O then with joy and cheerfulness 
 Rejoice, each mother's child. 
 O tidings^ etc. 
 
 Now to the Lord sing praises. 
 
 All you within this place, 
 And with true love and brotherhood 
 
 Each other now embrace. 
 This holy tide of Christmas 
 
 All others doth deface. 
 O tidings^ etc. 
 
 God bless the ruler of this house. 
 
 And send him long to reign, 
 And many a merry Christmas 
 
 May he live to see again 
 Among his friends and kindred 
 
 That live both far and near; 
 
 And God send you a happy New Year. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, iij- 
 
 DRINKING SONG. 
 
 Unknown. From "Rttson's English Songs," 1783. 
 
 HAD Neptune, when first he took charge of the sea, 
 Been as wise, or at least been as merry as we, 
 He 'd have thought better on 't, and, instead of his brine, 
 Would have filled the vast ocean with generous wine. 
 
 What trafficking, then, would have been on the main, 
 For the sake of good liquor, as well as for gain ! 
 No fear then of tempest, or danger of sinking; 
 The fishes ne'er drown that are always a-drinking. 
 
 The hot, thirsty Sun then would drive with more haste, 
 Secure in the evening of such a repast; 
 And when he 'd got tipsy would have taken his nap. 
 With double the pleasure in Thetis's lap. 
 
 By the force of his rays, and thus heated with wine, 
 Consider how gloriously Phoebus would shine; 
 What vast exhalations he 'd draw up on high, 
 To relieve the poor earth as it wanted supply. » 
 
—114 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 How happy us mortals when bless'd with such rain, 
 To fill all our vessels, and fill them again ! 
 Nay, even the beggar that has ne'er a dish, 
 Might jump in the river and drink like a fish. 
 
 What mirth and contentment in every one's brow, 
 Hob as great as a prince dancing after the plow ! 
 The birds in the air, as they play on the wing. 
 Although they but sip, would eternally sing. 
 
 The stars, who I think donH to drinking incline. 
 Would frisk and rejoice at the fume of the wine ; 
 And, merrily twinkling, would soon let us know 
 That they were as happy as mortals below. 
 
 Had this been the case, what had we then enjoy 'd, 
 Our spirits still rising, our fancy ne'er cloy'd ! 
 A plague, then, on Neptune, when 't was in his power, 
 To slip, like a fool, such a fortunate hour. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 115- 
 
 LITTLE BO-PEEP. 
 
 The follo'wing is from a little volume of poems 
 H. ChOLMONDELEY-PeNNELL. by Mr.Cholmondeley-Pennell, entitled ''From 
 
 Grave to Gay" London, 1884. 
 
 LITTLE BO-PEEP has lost her sheep," 
 And some one or other 's lost little Bo-peep — 
 Or she 'd never be wand'ring at twelve o'clock 
 With a golden crook and a velvet frock, 
 In a diamond necklace, in such a rout, — 
 In diamond buckles and high heel'd shoes 
 (And a dainty wee foot in them, too, if you choose. 
 And an ankle a sculptor might rave about . . . .) 
 But I think she 's a little witch, you know. 
 With her broomstick-crook and her high-heel'd shoe 
 And the mischievous fun that flashes thro' 
 The wreaths of her amber hair — don't you ? 
 No wonder the flock follows little Bo-peep, — 
 Such a shepherd would turn all the world into sheep, 
 To trot at her heels and look up in the face 
 Of their pastor for — goodness knows what, say for grace ? 
 Her face that recalls in its reds and its blues. 
 And its setting of gold, " Esmeralda " by Greuze. . . . , 
 
 There you 've Little Bo-peep, dress, diamonds, and all. 
 As I met her last night at the Fancy Ball. 
 
—ii6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 THERE IS A LIGHT." 
 
 Mr. Young is a well-known merchant in Nezv 
 York CHy, whose business duties seldom per- 
 R D Young mit him to drop into poetry. His Muse in this 
 
 * instance was doubtless inspired by the ex- 
 
 cellence of the subject. 
 
 THERE is a Light whose brightness vies 
 With any planet in the skies; 
 That shines with kindHer lustre, far, 
 Than Venus in her silvery car; 
 For while this orb but coldly gleams, — 
 Ne'er shining, save with borrowed beams. 
 That Light, Promethean, warmly glows, — 
 Man's blessing in a world of woes ! 
 More useful, often, is that Light, 
 Than Phoebus' ardent rays, so bright ; 
 And while this sounds like fiction vain. 
 Let me its truthfulness maintain: — 
 The sun departs at close of day 
 And leaves behind no lingering ray. 
 Ah! then the skeptic well may guess 
 The " Astral's " greater usefulness ! 
 
 Blest "Astral" oil! thy flood of Hght 
 Dispels the gloom of blackest night; 
 In peaceful homes, where love is queen, 
 How prized thy merits, bright, serene! 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 117- 
 
 The old and young of every clime. 
 Around the hearth at even-time, 
 Both rich and poor, engaged howe'er, 
 Thy great beneficence declare. 
 Thy motto stands, in letters bright, 
 Safety, Economy, Delight ! 
 No dread explosion dims thy fame, 
 No horrid smell infests thy name; 
 Health, weal and pleasure all attend, 
 And in thy presence hap'ly blend. 
 
 Then let us, e'er another e'en, 
 Discard both Gas and Kerosene, 
 And free our minds from all the care 
 They force us constantly to bear. 
 Their danger, trouble, and expense 
 Must surely drive them quickly hence, 
 And yield before the truth and might 
 Of Pratt's celestial "Astral" Light. 
 
•ii8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 
 
 TABLE OF FIRST LINES. 
 
 A BLITHE and bonny country-lass, . 
 
 A little mushroom -table spread, .... 
 
 All you that pass along, give ear unto my song, 
 
 Although I am a country lass, 
 
 Away ; let nought to love displeasing, 
 
 C^HLORis, now thou art fled away. 
 
 Come bring with a noise, .... 
 
 Come, shepherds, deck your heads, 
 
 Dear Chloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face! 
 
 Dear Tom, this brown jug, that now foams with mild ale. 
 
 JlrARLY, cheerful, mounting Lark, 
 
 Fair Amoret is gone astray, 
 Fair daffodils, we weep to see, 
 
 Cjod rest you, merry gentlemen, 
 Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, 
 Gorbo, as thou cam'st this way, . 
 Green little vaulter in the sunny grass. 
 Grinder, who serenely grindest, . 
 
 Had Neptune, when first he took charge of the 
 He had plnyed for his lordship's levee. 
 He lived in that past Georgian day, . 
 He, that loves a rosy cheek, 
 
 I CANNOT eat but little meat, 
 I often have been told. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 II 
 
 85 
 77 
 30 
 35 
 
 52 
 49 
 
 lOI 
 
 96 
 103 
 
 59 
 
 27 
 90 
 
 no 
 16 
 
 13 
 50 
 54 
 
 "3 
 91 
 22 
 
 95 
 
 18 
 
 98 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, iig— 
 
 I '11 sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate, 
 
 In good King Charles's golden days, 
 
 In the gloaming to be roaming. 
 
 In time of yore, when shepherds dwelt, . 
 
 It chanced of late a shepherd's swain, 
 
 L,ET 's tope and be merry, be jolly and cherry, . 
 Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep, 
 
 jVIy true love hath^iny heart, and I have his, 
 
 71 
 37 
 75 
 73 
 64 
 
 94 
 "5 
 
 IN OT a sou had he got, not a guinea or note, 
 Now thrice welcome Christmas, ... 
 
 O Nancy, wilt thou go with me, 
 
 Phyllida, that loved to dream, 
 Phyllis, men say that all my vows. 
 
 Since there 's no help, come let us kiss and part, 
 Still to be neat, still to be drest, 
 
 Xhe glories of our birth and state, 
 
 The hunt is up, the hunt is up. 
 
 The poetry of earth is never dead, 
 
 There is a Light whose brightness vies. 
 
 The sun is in the sky, mother, the flowers are springing 
 
 The women all tell me I 'm false to my lass, . 
 
 This relative of mine, .... 
 
 Thou art returned, great light, to that blest hour. 
 
 Time has a magic wand ! . 
 
 Well met, pretty nymph, says a jolly young swain, 
 When the summer night descended. 
 With an old song made by an old ancient pate. 
 Women are books, and men the readers be, 
 
 Ye little birds that sit and sing, 
 
 fair 
 
 45 
 88 
 
 43 
 
 106 
 29 
 
 104 
 58 
 
 20 
 79 
 51 
 116 
 92 
 62 
 40 
 
 .105 
 81 
 
 47 
 108 
 
 67 
 28 
 
 60 
 
■I20 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 
 
 RATT S ASTRAL OIL. 
 
 In a circular issued June 30th, 1882, 
 by the New -York State Board of 
 Health, there appears the astounding 
 statement, "It is estimated that up- 
 wards of thirty thousand lives have 
 been destroyed by the explosive quali- 
 ties of petroleum." The introduction of 
 PRATT'S ASTRAL OIL was the first 
 practical check given to this wholesale 
 destruction of life. Fifteen years ago, 
 all burning oils made from petroleum were so unsafe 
 that there was danger of their sale being prohibited by 
 legislation. The demand was for a good illuminating 
 oil that could be relied on as absolutely safe. After 
 a long series of experiments, conducted at a large ex- 
 pense, we discovered a way to meet this public want. 
 This was the origin of the celebrated PRATT'S 
 ASTRAL OIL, the first safe and reliable illuminating 
 oil ever made ; and although many millions of gallons 
 have annually been sold since its introduction, no 
 person has ever suffered by an accident from its use, 
 nor has any Insurance Company paid a dollar for loss 
 occasioned by it. It was originally sold at 60 cents 
 per gallon, but by the improved processes of manu- 
 facture, necessitated by the largely increasing demand, 
 we are enabled now to furnish it at a price within 
 the means of the poorest family. Why, then, should 
 any risk be taken in the choice of a burning oil, 
 when PRATT'S ASTRAL OIL can be obtained for 
 so small a cost ? 
 
I 
 
 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 121— 
 
 ratt's gasolene. 
 
 There is assuredly no better method 
 of illumination for suburban residences, 
 hotels, mills, and other large buildings 
 '• than by means of Gas Machines. A most 
 excellent and reliable quality of Gas can 
 thus be obtained at a cost varying from 
 about 75 cents to a little over $i.oo for 
 light fully equal to looo feet of Coal Gas, 
 or less than one-half the price usually 
 charged for that article. No trouble at- 
 taches to their use, as most of them are automatic in their 
 operation. Of these Machines, there are several varieties, 
 differing both in their construction and operation, and 
 possessing, of course, varying degrees of merit. Our 
 acquaintance with the respective qualifications of each 
 and our long familiarity with the subject may enable 
 us to suggest the one best adapted for any required 
 purpose, should any of our readers contemplate purchas- 
 ing one. 
 
 We accordingly invite correspondence on this sub- 
 ject, and shall be pleased at all times to furnish full 
 information about Gas Machines and all matters per- 
 taining to the question of Gasolene Gas. 
 
 QASOIiENE. — Nothing is so essential to the sat- 
 isfactory and successful operation of Gas Machines as 
 good Gasolene. Fluid of inferior quality is often offered 
 for sale that is positively injurious to Gas Machines, 
 and consumers will save themselves much trouble and 
 expense by purchasing only a well-known and reliable 
 article, and from responsible parties. — The best goods 
 are invariably the cheapest in the end, and especially 
 
—122 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 
 
 is this true of Gasolene. Good Gasolene cannot — like 
 Kerosene Oil — be obtained from every dealer or even 
 from every manufacturer. 
 
 Where consumers are unable to secure Pratt's Patent 
 Prepared Gasolene from their present source of supply, 
 if they will send their orders direct to us, they will be 
 served promptly and with strict attention to their needs. 
 
 After an experience of more than fifteen years in the 
 manufacture and sale of Gasolene, during which time we 
 have furnished probably four-fifths of the entire quantity 
 consumed in this market, we fully understand the require- 
 ments of customers, and respectfully solicit the patronage 
 of those who desire strictly reliable goods. 
 
 T^ratfs "Double Distilled 
 
 & Deodorized U\(^aphthas, 
 
 The attention of all who use any of these goods in 
 the arts and manufactures is invited to our own prod- 
 ucts, of the various gravities, from 62^ to j6'^ Beaume, 
 inclusive. These are prepared with the greatest care, and 
 will be found especially desirable for manufacturers of 
 Varnishes, Mixed Paints, Oil-cloths, Rubber and Enamel 
 Goods, Window-shades, etc. ; also for Druggists' use, and 
 every purpose requiring a perfectly pure and sweet article. 
 We are prepared to furnish them in any quantity, by the 
 single barrel or car-load, and are confident that all who 
 are critical as to quaHty will be well pleased with them. 
 
 BOULEVARD GAS FLUID. —We distill a 
 special grade of Naphtha (which we market under this 
 name), for use in what are known as Naphtha or Vapor 
 Burners, for street-lamps, a large number of which are 
 now in use for lighting the streets of many cities and 
 towns here and in foreign countries. 
 
ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 123— 
 
 £'(gnoog, 
 
 /^^O, Little Booky to subtle world, 
 y^J" And show thy simple face, 
 And forward pass, and do not turn 
 
 Again to our disgrace. 
 For thou shall bring to people's ears 
 
 But truth, that needs not blush; 
 And though perchance thou gefst rebuke. 
 
 Care not for that a rush : 
 For evil tongues do itch so sore, 
 
 They must be rubbing still 
 Against their teeth, that should hold fast 
 
 The clapper of the mill. 
 Desire that man that likes thee not 
 
 To lay thee down again. 
 Till some sweet nap and harmless sleep 
 
 Hath settled troubled brain. 
 
Press of Theo. L. De Vinne &^ Co. New -York. 
 
A PARADISE OF DAINTIE DEVICES. 
 
 A Paradise of Daintie Devices : A Collection of 
 Poems,' Songs, and Ballads, by various hands. At 
 New-York: Imprinted for Charles Pratt & Co., at 46 
 Broadway, near Trinity Church-yard. Christmas, 1882. 
 
 Opinions of the Press. 
 
 " Advertising has become a literary art. Charles Pratt & Co. have pre- 
 pared for circulation among their customers in the oil trade an excellent 
 collection of poems, songs, and ballads. Printed on heavy paper with 
 broad margins, and furnished with an enticing title, * A Paradise of Daintie 
 Devices,' it is an artistic souvenir for the holiday trade." ***** 
 — New- York Tribtme, Dec. ij, 1882. 
 
 " A beautiful little volume, bearing the quaint and not modern title of ' A 
 Paradise of Daintie Devices,' is published by Charles Pratt & Co., oil manu- 
 facturers. It contains poems, ancient and modern, English, Irish, and 
 American, selected with taste and printed in a fitting manner. It is an 
 agreeable and curious product of the Christmas season." — New -York Sun, 
 Dec. IS, 1882. 
 
 "The 'aesthetic' devices of ti-adesmen to attract attention are usually so 
 odious that one is ready to forget the advertising purpose of so pretty, well- 
 chosen, and well-printed a budget of verse as the * Paradise of Daintie 
 Devices : A Collection of Poems, Songs, and Ballads,' distributed by Charles 
 Pratt & Co." * * * * * — The Nation, Dec. 14, 1882. 
 
 " One of the prettiest books of the season is an advertisement of Pratt's 
 Astral Oil, etc. * A Paradise of Daintie Devices' it is called — the daintiest 
 device being the harmless deception practiced upon the reader. It is a well- 
 chosen collection of poems, songs, and ballads, dating from Richard Crashaw 
 to T. B. Aldrich ; and it is printed in Francis Hart & Co's best style." — 
 The Critic, Dec. 16, 1882. 
 
"yEsthetics in advertising can go no arther. 'A Paradise of Daintie 
 Devices,' which is a choicely culled selection of* Poems, Songs, and Ballads,' 
 is done up in an ordinary stiff brown-paper cover, but so quaintly entitled 
 thereon, with ornamental initials, and head and tail piece, that the eye is at 
 once pleasantly attracted. The contents prove to include many poetical 
 favorites, and some selections not familiar, but all in good taste and discover- 
 ing proper critical judgment. The reader is, however, astounded when, on 
 reaching the last pages, he discovers that the whole undertaking is a Christ- 
 mas gift from Charles Pratt & Co., manufacturers of oil. And truly a most 
 suitable and symbolical recognition of the amount of oil — Pratt's Astral, and 
 other, of the midnight species more particularly — that has been burned in 
 the cause of literature." — The American Bookseller, Dec. 75, 1882. 
 
 " A very unique publication is a ' Paradise of Daintie Devices,' being a 
 collection of Poems, Songs, and Ballads, by various hands. It contains a 
 few standard poems by well-known authors, with several ancient and some 
 modern ballads, and is very cleverly got up in antique style. It bears the 
 following imprint: 'At New- York: Imprinted for Charles Pratt & Co., at 
 46 Broadway, near Trinity Church-yard. Christmas, 1882.'" — New -York 
 Observer^ Dec, 21, 1882. 
 
 " Astral oil has had its chief claim on literature in the light it shed on the 
 student ; but this winter it has shone out over ' A Paradise of Daintie De- 
 vices,' issued by Charles Pratt & Co. to their friends and customers. The 
 wide-margined, rough-edged, brown-covered, antique-typed anthology of 102 
 small quarto pages which bears this title is, take it all in all, one of the aptest, as 
 it is one of the costliest, advertisements ever indulged in by a firm whose choice 
 of this method is, in its way, an equal compliment to the perceptions of its 
 patrons and proof of its own high taste. It is surprising, when one remem- 
 bers the senseless sums wasted on lithographing of all orders and colors, 
 that this dainty device of enlisting the best of literature in the service has 
 never before been adopted." — Philadelphia Press, Dec. 22, 1882. 
 
 "'A Paradise of Daintie Devices,' etc. Although issued gratuitously as a 
 souvenir to the patrons of the publishers, this is an unique specimen of book- 
 making; it is gotten up in antique style, with quaint head and tail pieces, 
 printed on fine linen paper, with broad margin and uncut edges. It contains 
 some charming poems and ballads from the early poets, and also from modern 
 writers." — The Publishers^ Weekly, New- York, January ij, 1883. 
 
 " A beautiful little volume, bearing the uncommon title of * A Paradise of 
 Daintie Devices,' is published by Charles Pratt & Co., oil manufacturers. It 
 is curious, quaint, and aesthetic to a degree." — Brooklyn (N. Y.) Eagle. 
 

 
^jm- 
 
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