THE AGE OF WISDOM Ho, pretty page, with the dimpled chin, This is the way that boys begin,— Wait till you come to Forty Year. 5 Curly gold locks cover foolish brains, Wait till you come to Forty Year. Forty times over let Michaelmas pass, Pledge me round, I bid ye declare, All good fellows whose beards are gray, Did not the fairest of the fair Common grow and wearisome ere Ever a month was past away? The reddest lips that ever have kissed, The brightest eyes that ever have shone, ΙΟ 15 20 1855. May pray and whisper, and we not list, Ere yet ever a month is gone. Gillian's dead, God rest her bier, 25 30 BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND From As You Like It BLOW, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly. Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot: ΙΟ Three Men of Gotham Though thou the waters warp, As friend remembered not. Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere 1623. folly: Then, heigh-ho, the holly! This life is most jolly. 20 William Shakespeare. THREE MEN OF GOTHAM From Nightmare Abbey SEAMEN three! What men be ye? To rake the moon from out the sea. The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine. And our ballast is old wine; And your ballast is old wine. Who art thou, so fast adrift? Wherefore so? 'T is Jove's decree, 7 In a bowl Care may not be. Fear ye not the waves that roll 14 1818. What the charm that floats the bowl? The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine. And your ballast is old wine. 21 Thomas Love Peacock. GOOD ALE From Gammer Gurton's Needle I CANNOT eat but little meat; I stuff my skin so full within Of jolly good ale and old. Back and side go bare, go bare! Both foot and hand go cold! But, belly, God send thee good ale enough; I love no roast but a nut-brown toast, A little bread shall do me stead, Much bread I not desire! No frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow, I am so wrapt, and thoroughly lapt 12 20 A Winter Wish And Tyb, my wife, that as her life And saith," Sweetheart, I took my part 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 trowled, God save the lives of them and their wives, Whether they be young or old! 1575. John Still, or more probably, A WINTER WISH OLD wine to drink! Ay, give the slippery juice That drippeth from the grape thrown loose Within the tun; Plucked from beneath the cliff Of sunny-sided Teneriffe, And ripened 'neath the blink Of India's sun! Peat whiskey hot, 28 36 |