Six Songs

Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:
Youth is full of [pleasance]1, age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short;
Youth is nimble, age is lame;
Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold;
Youth is wild, and age is tame.
Age, I do abhor thee; youth, I do adore thee;
O, my love, my love is young!
Age, I do defy thee: O, sweet shepherd, hie thee,
For methinks thou stay'st too long.

Ripe as peaches, fresh as morning
 . . . . . . . . . .

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When on her Maker's bosom
The new-born earth was laid, 
And Nature's opening blossom
Its fairest bloom displayed ; 

When all with fruit and flowers 
The laughing soil was drest, 
And Eden's fragrant bowers
Received their human guest ; 

No sin his face defiling,
The heir of nature stood,
And God, benignly smiling,
Beheld that all was good.

Yet in that hour of blessing,
A single want was known,
A wish the heart distressing,
For Adam was alone ! 

O God of pure affection ! 
By men and saints adored,
Who gavest Thy protection
To Cana's nuptial board ;
 
May such Thy bounties ever 
To wedded love be shown,
And no rude hand dissever 
Whom Thou hast linked in one !

Hear the sledges with the bells --
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

We watch'd her breathing thro' the night,
  Her breathing soft and low,
As in her breast the wave of life
  Kept heaving to and fro.

So silently we seem'd to speak,
  So slowly moved about,
As we had lent her half our powers
  To eke her living out.

Our very hopes belied our fears,
  Our fears our hopes belied --
We thought her dying when she slept,
  And sleeping when she died.

For when the morn came dim and sad,
  And chill with early showers,
Her quiet eyelids closed -- she had
  Another morn than ours.

  Come follow me, follow me, 
  You fairy elves that be -- 
  Which circle on the greene, 
  Come follow Mab your Queene. 
Hand in hand let's dance around, 
For this place is fairy ground. 

  When mortals are at rest, 
  And snoring in their nest, 
  Unheard and unespy'd 
  Through key-holes we do glide; 
Over tables, stools, and shelves, 
We trip it with our fairy elves. 

  And if the house be foul, 
  With platter, dish, or bowl, 
  Up stairs we nimbly creep, 
  And find the sluts asleep: 
There we pinch their armes and thighes; 
None escapes, nor none espies 

  But if the house be swept,
  And from uncleanness kept, 
  We praise the household maid, 
  And duly she is paid;
For we use before we goe, 
To drop a tester in her shoe.

  Upon a mushroom's head 
  Our table cloth we spread; 
  A grain of rye or wheat 
  Is manchet which we eat; 
Pearly drops of dew we drink 
In acorn cups fill'd to the brink.

  The brains of nightingales 
  With unctuous fat of snails, 
  Between two cockles stew'd 
  Is meat that's easily chew'd; 
Tailes of wormes, and marrow of mice,
Do make a dish that's wonderous nice.

  The grasshopper, gnat, and fly 
  Serve for our minstrelsie; 
  Grace said we dance awhile, 
  And so the time beguile:
And if the moone doth hide her head, 
The gloe-worm lights us home to bed 

  On tops of dewie grasse 
  So nimbly we do passe, 
  The young and tender stalk 
  Ne'er bends when we do walk; 
Yet in the morning may be seene 
Where we the night before have beene.