Good wine received moderately, Mox cerebrum laetificat, Natural heat it strengthens pardy, Omne membrum fortificat.
Drunken also soberly, Digestionem uberans, Health it lengthens of the body, Naturam humanam prosperans.
Good wine provokes a man to sweat, Et plena lavat viscera, It maketh men to eat their meat, Facitque corda prospera.
It nourisheth age if it be good, Facit ut esset juvenis, It gendereth in him gentle blood, Nam venas purgat sanguinis.
Sirs, by all these causes ye should think, Quae sunt rationabiles, That good wine should be best of all drink, Inter potus potabiles.
Fill the cup well! Bellamye, Potum jam mihi ingere, I have said till my lips be dry, Vellem nunc vinum bibere.
Wine drinkers all with great honour, Semper laudate Dominum, The which sendeth the good liquour, Propter salutem hominum.
Plenty to all that love good-wine, Donet Deus largius, And bring them soon when they go hence, Ubi non sitlent amplius.
The boar"s-head catch may be added to this, similar Latin intermixtures.
Caput apri refero, Resonans laudes Domino,
The boar"s head in hand I bring, With garlands gay and birds singing, I pray you all help me to sing Qui estis in convivio.
The boar"s head I understand, Is chief service in all this land, Wheresoever it may be found, Servitur c.u.m sinapio.
The boar"s head, I dare well say, Anon after the Twelfth day.
He taketh his leave and goeth away, Exivit tune de patria.
Four of the following verses are on a tombstone, I believe in Melrose Abbey, and are well known. Few if any persons will have seen the poem of which they form a part. So far as I am aware no other copy survives [Since this was written I have learned that a version, with important differences has been printed for the Warton Club, from an MS. in the possession of Mr. Onusby Gore.]:--
Vado mori Rex sum, quid honor quid gloria mundi, Est vita mors hominum regia--vado mori.
Vado mori miles victo certamine belli, Mortem non didici vincere vado mori.
Vado mori medicus, medicamine non relevandus, Quicquid agunt medici respuo vado mori.
Vado mori logicus, aliis concludere novi, Concludit breviter mors in vado mori.
Earth out of earth is worldly wrought; Earth hath gotten upon earth a dignity of nought; Earth upon earth has set all his thought, How that earth upon earth might be high brought.
Earth upon earth would be a king, But how that earth shall to earth he thinketh no thing.
When earth biddeth earth his rents home bring, Then shall earth from earth have a hard parting.
Earth upon earth winneth castles and towers, Then saith earth unto earth this is all ours; But when earth upon earth has builded his bowers, Then shall earth upon earth suffer hard showers.
Earth upon earth hath wealth upon mould; Earth goeth upon earth glittering all in gold, Like as he unto earth never turn should, And yet shall earth unto earth sooner than he would.
Why that earth loveth earth wonder I think, Or why that earth will for earth sweat and swink.
For when earth upon earth is brought within the brink, Then shall earth for earth suffer a foul stink,
As earth upon earth were the worthies nine, And as earth upon earth in honour did shine; But earth list not to know how they should incline, And their gowns laid in the earth when death made his fine.
As earth upon earth full worthy was Joshua, David, and worthy King Judas Maccabee, They were but earth none of them three; And so from earth unto earth they left their dignity.
Alisander was but earth that all the world wan, And Hector upon earth was held a worthy man, And Julius Caesar, that the Empire first began; And now as earth within earth they lie pale and wan.
Arthur was but earth for all his renown, No more was King Charles nor G.o.dfrey of Boulogne; But how earth hath turned their n.o.blenes upside down And thus earth goeth to earth by short conclusion.
Whoso reckons also of William Conqueror, King Henry the First that was of knighthood flower, Earth hath closed them full straitly in his bower,-- So the end of worthiness,--here is no more succour.
Now ye that live upon earth, both young and old, Think how ye shall to earth, be ye never so bold; Ye be unsiker, whether it be in heat or cold, Like as your brethren did before, as I have told.
Now ye folks that be here ye may not long endure, But that ye shall turn to earth I do you ensure; And if ye list of the truth to see a plain figure, Go to St. Paul"s and see the portraiture.
All is earth and shall to earth as it sheweth there, Therefore ere dreadful death with his dart you dare, And for to turn into earth no man shall it forbear, Wisely purvey you before, and thereof have no leaf.
Now sith by death we shall all pa.s.s, it is to us certain, For of earth we come all, and to the earth shall turn again; Therefore to strive or grudge it were but vain, For all is earth and shall be earth--nothing more certain.
Now earth upon earth consider thou may How earth cometh to earth naked alway, Why should earth upon earth go stout alway, Since earth out of earth shall pa.s.s in poor array?
I counsel you upon earth that wickedly have wrought, That earth out of earth to bliss may be brought.
Of songs, nursery rhymes, and carols, there are very many, of which the next three are specimens:--
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley, The falcon hath borne my mate away, He bare him up, he bare him down, He bare him into an orchard brown.
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley, The falcon hath borne my mate away.
In that orchard there was a hall, That was hanged with purple and pall, And in that hall there was a bed That was hanged with gold so red, Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley.
And in that bed there lyeth a knight, His wounds were bleeding day and night; By the bedside there kneeleth a may, And she weepeth both night and day, Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley.
And by the bed side there standeth a stone, Corpus Christi is written thereon.
Lulley, lulley, lulley, lulley, The falcon hath borne my mate away.
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and brown, And they go a grazing down by the town, With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy?
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and white, And they go a grazing down by the d.y.k.e, With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy?
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and black, And they go a grazing down by the lake, With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou little pretty boy?
I have twelve oxen, and they be fair and red, And they go a grazing down by the mead, With haye, with howe, with hoye!
Sawest thou not mine oxen, thou pretty little boy?
Make we merry in hall and bower This time was born our Saviour.
In this time G.o.d hath sent His own Son to be present, To dwell with us in verament, G.o.d is our Saviour.