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66 Robin, that warld is now away,

“ And quyt brocht till an end,
• And neir again thereto perfay,

" Sall it be as thou wend;
“ For of my pain thou made but play,

« I words in vain did spend;
As thou hast done fae fall I say,

“ Murn on, I think to mend.”

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Makyne, the hope of all my heil,

My heart on thee is set ;
I'll evermair to thee be leil,

Quhyle I may live but lett,
Never to fail as uthers feil,

Quhat grace so eir I get.
“ Robin, with thee I will not deal ;

“ Adieu, for this we met.”

I 20

Makyne went hameward blyth enough,

Outowre the holtis hair,
Pure Robin murnd and Makyne leugh ;

Scho fang, and he ficht fair :
Scho left him in baith wae and wreuch,

In dolor and in care,
Keipand his herd under a heuch,

Amang the rushy gair.

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XIII.

GENTLE HERDSMAN, TELL TO ME.

DIALOGUE BETWEEN A PILGRIM AND HERDSMAN.

The scene of this beautiful old ballad is laid near Walsingham, in Norfolk, where was anciently an image of the Virgin Mary, famous all over Europe for the numerous pilgrimages made to it, and the great riches it possessed. Erasmus has given a very exaćt and humorous description of the fuperftitions practised there in his time. See his account of the VIRGO PARATHALASSIA, in his colloquy, intitled, PereGRINATIO RELIGIONIS ERGO. He tells us, the rich offerings in filver, gold, and precious stones, that were there shewn him, were incredible, there being scarce a person of any note in England, but what some time or other paid a visit, or jent a present to OUR LADY OF WALSINGHAM.

At the dissolution of the monasteries in 1538, this splendid image, with another from Ipszich, was carried to Chelsea, and there burnt in the presence of commisioners; who, we trust, did not burn the jewels and the finery.

This poem is printed from a copy in the Editor's folio MS. which had greatly suffered by the hand of time ; but vestiges of several of the lines remaining, some conjectural supplements have been attempted, which, for greater exactness are in this une ballad distinguished by itaļicks.

G

Entle herdsman, tell to me,

Of curtesy I thee pray,
Unto the towne of Walfingham

Which is the right and ready way.

« Unto

5

“ Unto the towne of Walfingram
" The

way

is hard for to be gone; “ And verry crooked are those pathes

“ For you to find out all alone.”

10

? Were the miles doubled thrise,

And the way never foe ill,
Itt were not enough for mine offence ;

Itt is foe grievous and foe ill.

Thy yeares are young, thy face is fa:re,

“ Thy witts are wcake, thy thoughts are greene; • Time hath not given thee leave, as yett, 15

“ For to committ fo great a finne.”

Yes, herdsman, yes, soe woldst thou say,

If thou kneweit soe much as I;
My witts, and thoughts, and all the res,

Have well deserved for to dye.

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20

I am not what I feeme to bee,

My clothes, and sexe doe differ farr,
I am a woman, woe is me!

Born to greeffe and irksome care.

25

For my beloved, and well-beloved,

My wayward cruelty could kill :
And though my tearcs will nought avail,

Mot dearel; I bezail bim fill.

He

He was the flower of noble wights,

None ever more fincere colde bee; Of comelye mien and shape he was,

And tenderlye bee loved mee.

30

Wben thus I saw he loved me well,

I grewe so proude bis paine to fee, Tbat I, who did not know myselfe,

Thought fcorne of such a youth as hee.

35

And grew foe coy and nice to please,

As womens lookes are often soe,
He might not kifes, nor hand forsooth,

Unlelle I willed him foe to doe.

Thus being wearyed with delayes,

To see I pityed not his greeffe, He gott him to a secrett place,

And there hee dyed without releeffe.

45

And for his fake these weedes I weare,
And sacriffice

my
tender

age; And every day Ile begg my bread,

To undergoe this pilgrimage.

Thus every day I faft and praye,

And ever will doe till I dye ; And gett me to some secrett place,

For soe did hee, and foe will I.

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Now,

Now, gentle herdsman, aske no more,

But keepe my fecretts I thee pray;
Unto the towne of Walsingham

Show me the right and readye way.

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" Now goe thy wayes, and God before !

“ For he must ever guide thee ftill:
“ Turne downe that dale, the right hand path,

“ And foe, faire Pilgrim, fare thee well!” 60

XIV.

K.EDWARDIV.ANDTANNER OF TAMWORTH

Was a story of great fame among our ancestors. The author of the Art of English Poesie, 1589, 4to, seems to speak of it, as a real fact.-Describing that vicious mode of speech, which the Greeks called ACYRON, i.e. When we use a dark and obscure word, utterly repugnant to that we would express ;he adds, Such manner of un" couth speech did the Tanner of Tamworth use to king Edward the fourth; which Tanner, having a great while " mistaken him, and used very broad talke with him, at

length, perceiving by his traine that it was the king, was afraide he should be punished for it, [and] said thus, with a certaine rude repentance,

“ I hope I shall be hanged to-morrow, "for (I feare me] I shall be hanged, whereat the king

laughed a good, not only to see the Tanners vaine feare, but also to beare his illhapen terme ; and gave

66 him

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