My maids, gae to my dressing-room,

And dress to me my smock;

The one half is o' the holland fine,

The other o' needle-work.

The horse fair Annet rade upon,

He amblit like the wind, Wi' siller he was shod before,

Wi' burning gowd behind.

Four and twanty siller bells

Wer a' tyed till his mane,

And yae tift o' the norland wind,

They tinkled ane by ane.

Four and twanty gay gude knichts

Rade by fair Annets side,

And four and twanty fair ladies,
As gin she had bin a bride.

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65

70

She sat her by the nut-browne bride,
And her een they wer sae clear,
Lord Thomas he clean forgat the bride,
When fair Annet she drew near.

He had a rose into his hand,

And he gave it kisses three,

And reaching by the nut-browne bride,

Laid it on fair Annets knee.

Frae out her gay head-gear,

And strake fair Annet unto the heart,
That word she nevir spak mair.

Lord Thomas he saw fair Annet wex pale,

And marvelit what mote bee:

But whan he saw her dear hearts blude,

A' wood-wroth wexed hee.

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He drew his dagger, that was sae sharp,
That was sae sharp and meet,

105

And drave into the nut-browne bride,

That fell deid at his feit.

Now stay for me, dear Annet, he sed,

Now stay, my dear, he cry'd;

110

Then strake the dagger untill his heart,

And fell deid by her side.

Lord Thomas was buried without kirk-wa',

Fair Annet within the quiere;

And o' the tane thair grew a birk,

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The other a bonny briere.

And ay they grew, and ay they threw,

As they wad faine be neare;

And by this ye may ken right weil,

They were twa luvers deare.

120

V.

Unfading Beauty.

THIS little beautiful sonnet is reprinted from a small volume of "Poems by Thomas Carew, Esq., one of the gentlemen of the privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his majesty. (Charles I.) Lond. 1640." This elegant and almost-forgotten writer, whose poems have been deservedly revived, died, in the prime of his age, in 1639.

In the original follows a third stanza; which, not being of general application, nor of equal merit, I have ventured to omit.

HEE, that loves a rosie cheeke,
Or a corall lip admires,

Or from star-like eyes doth seeke

Fuell to maintaine his fires,

As old time makes these decay,

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So his flames must waste away.

But a smooth and stedfast mind,

Gentle thoughts, and calme desires,
Hearts with equal love combin'd,

Kindle never-dying fires:

Where these are not, I despise

Lovely cheekes, or lips, or eyes.

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VI.

George Barnwell.

THE subject of this ballad is sufficiently popular from the modern play which is founded upon it. This was written by George Lillo, a jeweller of London, and first acted about 1730. As for the ballad, it was printed at least as early as the middle of the last century.

It is here given from three old printed copies, which exhibit a strange intermixture of Roman and black-letter. It is also collated with another copy in the Ashmole collection at Oxford, which is thus entitled, "An excellent ballad of George Barnwell, an apprentice of London, who ... thrice robbed his master and murdered his vncle in Ludlow." The tune is The Merchant.

This tragical narrative seems to relate a real fact; but when it happened, I have not been able to discover.

THE FIRST PART.

ALL youths of fair Englànd

That dwell both far and near,

Regard my story that I tell,

And to my song give ear.

A London lad I was,

A merchant's prentice bound;

My name George Barnwell; that did spend
My master many a pound.

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