But if that I may have truly

Good ale my belly full,

I shall look like one, by sweet Saint John,
Were shorn against the wool.

Though 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.

I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;

But sure I think that I could drink

With him that weareth an hood.
Drink is my life; although my wife
Some time do chide and scold,
Yet spare I not to ply the pot
Of jolly good ale and old.

I love no roast but a brown toast,
Or a crab in the fire;

A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I never desire.
Nor frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if it wolde;

I am so wrapped within, and lapped
With jolly good ale and old.

I care right nought, I take no thought
For clothes to keep me warm;
Have I good drink, I surely think
Nothing can do me harm.
For truly than I fear no man,

Be he never so bold,

When I am armed and throughly warmed
With jolly good ale and old.

But now and than I curse and ban,
They make their ale so small!

God give them care, and evil to fare!
They strye the malt and all.

(G) HC-Vol. 40

1 Unless.

2

• Destroy.

36

Such peevish pew, I tell you true,
Not for a crown of gold

There cometh one sip within my lip,
Whether it be new or old.

Good ale and strong maketh me among
Full jocund and full light,
That oft I sleep, and take no keep
From morning until night.
Then start I up and flee to the cup,

The right way on I hold;

My thirst to stanch I fill my paunch
With jolly good ale and old.

And Kit, my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinketh she that ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl
As a good malt-worm should,

And say, "Sweetheart, I take my part
Of jolly good ale and old."

They that do drink till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do,

They shall not miss to have the bliss
That good ale hath brought them to.
And all poor souls that scour black bowls,
And hath them lustily troll'd,

God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old!
Back and side, etc.

SIR THOMAS WYATT

[1503 (?)-1542]

A SUPPLICATION

FORGET not yet the tried intent
Of such a truth as I have meant;
& Wretched stuff.

37

My great travail so gladly spent,

Forget not yet!

Forget not yet when first began

The weary life ye know, since whan
The suit, the service none tell can;

Forget not yet!

Forget not yet the great assays,
The cruel wrong, the scornful ways,
The painful patience in delays,

Forget not yet!

Forget not! O, forget not this,
How long ago hath been, and is
The mind that never meant amiss-

Forget not yet!

Forget not then thine own approved
The which so long hath thee so loved,
Whose steadfast faith yet never moved-
Forget not this!

THE LOVER'S APPEAL

AND wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay say nay! for shame,
To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame.
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath loved thee so long
In wealth and woe among:
And is thy heart so strong
As for to leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,
That hath given thee my heart
Never for to depart

38

Neither for pain nor smart:

And wilt thou leave me thus?
Say nay! say nay!

And wilt thou leave me thus,

And have no more pity

Of him that loveth thee?

Alas! thy cruelty!

And wilt thou leave me thus?

Say nay! say nay!

HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY
[1517 (?)-1547]

COMPLAINT OF THE ABSENCE OF HER LOVER
BEING UPON THE SEA

O HAPPY dames! that may embrace
The fruit of your delight,

Help to bewail the woful case

And eke the heavy plight

Of me, that wonted to rejoice

The fortune of my pleasant choice:

Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice.

In ship, freight with rememberance
Of thoughts and pleasures past,
He sails that hath in governance
My life while it will last:

With scalding sighs, for lack of gale,
Furthering his hope, that is his sail,
Toward me, the swete port of his avail.

Alas! how oft in dreams I see

Those eyes that were my food;
Which sometime so delighted me,
That yet they do me good:
Wherewith I wake with his return

Whose absent flame did make me burn:

But when I find the lack, Lord! how I mourn!

When other lovers in arms across
Rejoice their chief delight,
Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss
I stand the bitter night

In my window where I may see
Before the winds how the clouds flee:
Lo! what a mariner love hath made me!

And in green waves when the salt flood
Doth rise by rage of wind,

A thousand fancies in that mood
Assail my restless mind.

Alas! now drencheth my sweet foe,
That with the spoil of my heart did go,
And left me; but alas! why did he so?

And when the seas wax calm again
To chase fro me annoy,

My doubtful hope doth cause me pain;
So dread cuts off my joy.

Thus in my wealth mingled with woe

And of each thought a doubt doth grow;

-Now he comes! Will he come? Alas! no, no.

39

THE MEANS TO ATTAIN HAPPY LIFE

MARTIAL, the things that do attain

The happy life be these, I find:-
The richesse left, not got with pain;

The fruitful ground, the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;

No charge of rule, nor governance;
Without disease, the healthful life;
The household of continuance;

The mean diet, no delicate fare;
True wisdom join'd with simpleness;

The night dischargèd of all care,

Where wine the wit may not oppress.