Where my Love abideth.Sleep's no softer; it proceeds
On through lawns, on through meads,
On and on, whate'er befall,
Meandering and musical,95
Though the niggard pasturage
Bears not on its shaven ledge
Aught but weeds and waving grasses
To view the river as it passes,
Save here and there a scanty patch100
Of primroses too faint to catch
A weary bee.
And scarce it pushes
Its gentle way through strangling rushes
Where the glossy kingfisher
Flutters when noon-heats are near,105 Glad the shelving banks to shun, Red and steaming in the sun, Where the shrew-mouse with pale throat Burrows, and the speckled stoat; Where the quick sandpipers flit110 In and out the marl and grit That seems to breed them, brown as they. Naught disturbs its quiet way, Save some lazy stork that springs, Trailing it with legs and wings,115 Whom the shy fox from the hill Rouses, creep he ne'er so still.
CAVALIER TUNES
I
MARCHING ALONG
Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing;
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
And see the rogues nourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty-score strong,5
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song:
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup.10
Till you're—
Chorus.—Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!15
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here,
Chorus.—Marching along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?
Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls20
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight.
Chorus.—March we along, fifty-score strong, Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!
II
GIVE A ROUSE
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse; here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!
Who gave me the goods that went since?5
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
Chorus.—
King Charles, and who'll do him right now? King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?10 Give a rouse; here's, in hell's despite now, King Charles!
To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,15
While Noll's damned troopers shot him?
Chorus.—
King Charles, and who'll do him right now? King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now? Give a rouse; here's, in hell's despite now, King Charles!20
III
BOOT AND SADDLE
Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray,
Chorus.—Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;5
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—
Chorus.—Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array;10
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,
Chorus.—Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counselors; what counsel they?15
Chorus.—Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"
THE
