PAGE

True subjects all rejoyce! (a Trunk-ballad, reserved for Civil War Series) 480 Tune the viol! touch the lute! (by Nahum Tate)

809

'Twas at the fearful midnight hour (=Silent midn. hour; by D. Mallet). 139 Twas at the royal feast, for Persia won (by Dryden) 'Twas on the day when Kings did fight (by D. P. Starkey) 'Twas when the Seas were roaring (by John Gay, etc.).

810

341

272

839, 840

Under five hundred Kings three Kingdoms groane (=Caper and ferk it), 408

Under the Greenwood Tree

tune

Unfortunate Strephon, well may'st thou complain.
Up go we! Hey boys, up go we!
Upon a Summer time

Upon a sunshiny Summer's day (by Tom D'Urfey)

Valiant Jockey's march'd away! (by Tom D'Urfey)

Walking by a Christal fountain
Wally on't

.tune,

571 603 4

277

961

a Scotch tune=Daniel Cooper, 603

Was ever Knight for Ladie's sake

848

Was ever the like in any age known?

960

Water parted from the sea (in Dr. Arne's Artaxerxes, 1763) tune, Int. XXXVIII We bipeds, made up of frail clay (by Tom Dibdin)

748

We take no thought, we have no care (by Thomas Ravenscroft)

264

We, who descended from that noble Dame (reserved for Amanda text)
Welcome to all the pleasures that delight

Well met, pretty Betty, my joy and my dear (by Thomas Lanfiere).
Well, 'tis as Bickerstaffe has guess'd (Elegy on John Partridge)
We'll welcome you to Yarrow

Wet and weary

Wha is at my Chamber dore? O Widow, are ye wauking?
What ayles the Anabaptists? (by I. P.).

Introd. XXIII

What ayles thee, old fool? why dost thou not drink? (by Walter Pope,
What should a Young Woman do with an Old Man? (cf. Burns)
What strange affections have my thoughts (by Laurence Price)
When all was wrapt in dark midnight (by David Mallet).
When cannons are roaring

When Fame brought the news of Great Britain's success (by J. Cunningham)
When first Mardyke was made a prey (reserved for Civil War Series)
When first my dear Johny cam' to this town

When Hope lay hush'd in silent night (by David Mallet)
When I call to mind those jovial days (by Laurence Price)
When I hear a trumpet sound (by J. P.)

When it was grown to dark midnight (in Beaumont and Fletcher's comedy)
When Maids live to thirty, and never repent

When Oliver, that Imp of Mars (Bo-Peep: for Civil War Series):

When Phoebus addrest himself to the West
When Sol will cast no light

When the Devil is blind (proverbial)

When the joy of all Hearts, and desire of all Eyes (Loyal Song)
When the wind blows, then the Mill goes (glee : music by Sir Hy. Bishop) 529
When this old cap was new (by M. Parker) and tune (=Old Sir Simon, etc.) 1009
When Traitors did at Popery rail

When Venus, the Goddess of Beauty and Love (cf. "Fair Venus,"
Wherefore faints my Coridon? (by Richard Johnson ?)

Who does not extol our Conquest Marine?

Who fears to speak of Ninety-eight? Who blushes at the name?
Who list to reade the deeds by valiant Welsh-men done?

Why are my eyes still flowing?

Will Women's vanities never have end? (by Dr. James Smith)

430, 972

310

Will you hear a German Princess, How she chous'd an English Lord?
Will you hear a Spanish Lady, How she lov'd an English-man? .tune, 310
Will you know why the old Misers adore their coffers of ill-gotten treasure? 933
William, the Miller, who liv'd in the West

528, 933

With a dildo, dildo, dee (in Choyce Drollery)
With a hie dildo dill, hie ho dildurlie

551

and tune, 55!

With a thump, thump, thump!

With favour and fortune fastidiously blest (by Dean Swift)
Wondrous machine! to thee the warbling lute (by Nicholas Brady).
Would you hear a Spanish Lady (= Will you hear, q. vide)

300, 1086 .623 810

.tune, 310

487

265, 972 192 Introd. XVIII

Ye Fellows of Newgate, whose fingers (by Thurmond, Gay, or Messink) 192
Ye freemen, and masters, and 'prentices mourn (Loyal Song)
Ye merry hearts, that love to play (by Laurence Price)
Ye Morts and ye Dells (a Beggar's Canting Song).
Yf I had as faire a face as John Willms his daughter hasse
You beauteous Ladies great and small (by Laurence Price)
You faithful Christians, wheresoe'er you be
You Ladies all of merry England (by J. Wilmot, Earl of Rochester)
You Loyal Lovers that are distant (by Laurence Price) .
You maidens wild, that are beguil'd (answer to "Not long ago," etc.)
You maids and widdows all a row (by Laurence Price)
You millers, and taylors, and weavers, each one (by John Wade)
You Muses all, your aide to me assigne! (by Laurence Price)
You noble Lords of high degree

You Poets that write of the Ages thats past (by Laurence Price)
You talk of New England, I truly believe

You that are with jests delighted

You that delight in a jocular song (by Tom D'Urfey)

265

You that desire Newes (by Laurence Price)

You that in verses do delight, I here have some to read
You Virgins so pretty, hear what I relate

Young man, where are you now? (reserved for Civil War Series)
Young Phaon sate upon the brink

265

923

571

300

506

Young Phaon strove the bliss to taste (in "Circe": by Dr. C. Davenant) 506 Your Laddie can't fight, but your Laddie may sing.

"Thou can'st not choose but know who I am. If thou entertainest my love, let it appear in thy smiling. Thy smiles become thee well."-Twelfth Night, ii. 5.

B

AGFORD BALLADS end here, Gentle Readers!

Shake hands, ere you sit down to dine.
Men on books, as on meat, are quick-feeders.

What, no more? Then pray take off your wine.

We've been free from intrusion vulgarian,
City-men and the Curate denied,

Lest they prate still of slaughters Bulgarian,
Aud the Stock-Exchange-Tallows and Hide.

It was pleasant, to slip back two hundred
Past years, from this date Anno D.,

And behold the wise statesmen who blund' red

On "Exclusion" and great

Popish P."

(We're not "Rome-wards," or prone to High-Ritual,

Though we keep all the Non-cons. at bay:
We contentedly swallow our vi't-u-al,

Rememb'ring" each dog has his day").

No doubt, there's a lesson to pick up,

If we now to these ballads take heed;
When we see how all Rant ends in hiccough,
And Protestant Zeal runs to seed.

A good cause needs no scoundrel defenders;
All excess-charge is taxed on the bill:
We discount mere saintly pretenders,

And put down their virtues at nil.

Ours no Bacchanal taste, nor our quaffing
Of stronger than Adamite-wine,
While at total-abstainers' cant laughing:
We don't think Old Rowley divine;
Feel no rapturous love for his "Misses":
(In this Moral-Age voted fie-fie!—
It will soon give up scandal and kisses,
And of Pepys and De Grammont fight shy).

While we can, let us prize Bagford Ballads;
Till we all become goody and dull;

On a diet of cold-tea and sallads,

Or" Three Hours' Discourse with a Scull," When you're weary of endless debating, Convocation, School-Board, Spelling-Bee, The new Novels, and Beadledom prating,

9