BECKLER. THE PRETTY PET. A blythe and bonnie country lass, Sat sighing on the tender grass, And weeping said, Will none come woo me? A smicker boy, a lither swain, Heigh-ho, lither swain, That in his love was wanton fain, With smiling looks came straight unto her. When as the wanton wench espied, The means to make herself a bride, His arms about her body twined, And, Fair lass, how fare ye? Well. The country kit said, well forsooth, But that I have a longing tooth, A longing tooth that makes me cry. A wound, quoth she, without relief, If that be all, the shepherd said, He makes thee wife it, gentle maid, 69 Hereon they kiss'd with many an oath, And 'fore god Pan did plight their troth, And God send every pretty pet, That fears to die of this conceit, BECKLER-1621. PHILLIDA AND CORYDON. In the merry month of May, Much ado there was, God wot! He said, he had lov'd her long: Corydon would kiss her then, She said, maids must kiss no men, NICHOLAS BRETON. Till they did for good and all. Thus, with many a pretty oath, PHILLIS THE FAIR. On a hill there grows a flower, In that bower there is a chair, It is Phillis, fair and bright; She that is the shepherd's joy; 71 Who would not that face admire! Thou that art the shepherds' queen, By thy comfort, have been seen Dead men brought to life again. The two foregoing Pieces are the composition of NICHOLAS BRETON, whose poety is considerable, and of various merit; an imperfect copy of the former of these, together with his "Go, muse, rock me asleep," have been inserted by Percy into the third vol. of "Reliques," without his knowing who their author was. Playford, in his "Introduction to the Skill of Musick," 1665, quotes the first stanza of Phillida and Corydon, set to music, for two voices, with the attached signature, B. R. Nicholas Breton supplied the press with a rich diversity of ingenious compositions, for more than forty years. He was born in 1555; died, 1624. ANNE HATHAWAY. WOULD you be taught, ye feather'd throng, She hath a way to sing so clear, Phoebus might wondering stop to hear; SHAKESPEARE. 73 To melt the sad, make blithe the gay, Anne Hathaway, To breathe delight, Anne hath a way. When envy's breath, and rancorous tooth, To soothe the heart, Anne hath a way; Turn foulest night to fairest day, Thou knowest, fond heart, Anne hath a way; She hath a way, Anne Hathaway; To make grief bliss, Anne hath a way. But were it to my fancy given, To rate her charms, I'd call them heaven, Anne Hathaway; To be heaven's self, Anne hath a way. The above is doubtfully ascribed to SHAKESPEARE, and purports to have been addressed to the lady he married: "To the idol of H |