Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/357

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THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN.
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    Then oh! fairest maiden,    When earth is arrayed inThe beauties of heaven, o'er mountain and lea;    Let me still delight in    The glories that brighten,For they are, dear Anna, sweet emblems of thee.
    But, Anna! why redden?    I would not, fair maiden,My tongue could pronounce what might tend to betray    The traitor; the demon    Who could deceive woman,His soul's all unfit for the glories of day.
    Believe me then, fairest,    To me thou art dearest;And though I in raptures view lake, stream, and tree—    With flower-blooming mountains,    And crystalline fountains,I view them, fair maid, but as emblems of thee.
The Fine Old English Gentleman.

This song is modelled upon the excellent ballad of "The Old and Young Courtier."

I'll sing you a good old song, Made by a good old pate,Of a fine old English gentleman Who had an old estate,And who kept up his old mansion At a bountiful old rate;With a good old porter to relieve The old poor at his gate.Like a fine old English gentleman, All of the olden time.
His hall so old was hung around, With pikes, and guns, and bows,And swords, and good old bucklers That had stood against old foes;'Twas there "his worship" sat in state, In doublet and trunk hose,And quaffed his cup of good old sack, To warm his good old nose.         Like a fine, &c.


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