ng may be seen
Where we the night before have been.

_JOHN CHALKHILL_

THE PRAISE OF A COUNTRYMAN'S LIFE

OH, the sweet contentment
The countryman doth find,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
That quiet contemplation
Possesseth all my mind:
Then care away, and wend along with me.

For courts are full of flattery,
As hath too oft been tried,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
The city full of wantonness,
And both are full of pride;
Then care away, and wend along with me.

But, oh! the honest countryman
Speaks truly from his heart,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
His pride is in his tillage,
His horses and his cart:
Then care away, and wend along with me.

Our clothing is good sheep-skins,
Grey russet for our wives,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
'Tis warmth and not gay clothing
That doth prolong our lives:
Then care away, and wend along with me.

The ploughman, though he labour hard,
Yet on the holy day,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
No emperor so merrily
Does pass his time away:
Then care away, and wend along with me.

To recompense our tillage
The heavens afford us showers,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
And for our sweet refreshments
The earth affords us bowers;
Then care away, and wend along with me.

The cuckoo and the nightingale
Full merrily do sing,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the spring:
Then care away, and wend along with me.

This is not half the happiness
The countryman enjoys,
High trolollie, lollie, lol; high trolollie, lee;
Though others think they have as much,
Yet he that says so lies:
Then care away, and wend along with me.

_ANONYMOUS_

HERE'S A HEALTH

HERE'S a health unto His Majesty,
_With a fa, la, la, la, la, la, la!_
Confusion to his enemies,
_With a fa, la, la, la, la, la, la!_
And he that will not drink his health,
I wish him neither wit nor wealth,
Nor yet a rope to hang himself,
_With a fa, la, la, la, la, la, la!_

_JOHN GAY_

BLACK-EYED SUSAN

ALL in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
The streamers waving in the wind,
When black-eyed Susan came on board,
Oh, where shall I my true-love find?
Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
Does my sweet William sail among your crew?'

William, who high upon the yard
Rock'd by the billows to and fro,
Soon as