Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BALLAD TO THE TUNE - 'WILL AND TOM', by PATRICK CAREY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BALLAD TO THE TUNE - 'WILL AND TOM', by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Jack! Nay, prithee, come away
Last Line: And yet for news inquire.
Subject(s): Feasts; Love


I

DICK

JACK! nay, prithee, come away,
This is no time for sadness;
Pan's chief feast is kept to-day,
Each shepherd shows his gladness:
W' are to meet all on the green,
To dance and sport together;
O what brav'ry will be seen!
I hope 'twill prove fair weather.

II

Look, I've got a new suit on;
Say, man! how likest the colour?
Will't not take Nell's eyes anon?
All greens than this are duller.
Mark how trimm'd up is my hook,
This ribbon was Nell's favour:
Jack! the wench has a sweet look,
I'll die but what I will have her.

III

JACK

Dick, e'en go alone for me;
By Nell thou art expected:
I no love have there to see,
Of all I am rejected.
At my rags each maid would flout,
If seen with such a shiner;
No, I'll ne'er set others out;
I'll stay till I am finer.

IV

Shall I go to sit alone,
Scorn'd e'en by Meg o' th' dairy?
Whilst proud Tom lies hugging Joan,
And Robin kisses Mary?
Shall I see my rival Will
Receive kind looks from Betty?
Both of them I'd sooner kill:
At thought on't, Lord, how fret I!

V

'Cause he has a flock of sheep,
And is an elder brother;
'Cause (poor hireling!) those I keep
Belong unto another,
I must lose what's mine by right,
And let the rich fool gain her:
I'll at least keep out of sight,
Since hopeless e'er t' obtain her.

VI

DICK

Courage, man, thy case is not
So bad as thou dost take it:
Yet 'tis ill; could I (God wot!),
Much better would I make it.
He is rich: thou, poor; 'twere much
Wert thou preferr'd by a woman;
Women, though, keep sometimes touch,
But (sooth) 'tis not so common.

VII

Thou, unto thy pipe can'st sing
Love-songs of thine own making;
He, nor that, nor anything
Knows how to do, that's taking.
She did love thee once, and swore
Ne'er (through her fault) to lose thee;
If she keep her oath, before
The richer, she will choose thee.

VIII

JACK

Never, never, 'las! such oaths
Have force for but few hours;
If she lik'd once, now she loathes;
And smiles no more, but lowers.
Scarce his suit had he applied,
But she lov'd me no longer:
Soon my faith she 'gan deride:
For wealth, than faith, is stronger.

IX

Farewell, shepherd, then. Be gone;
The feast no stay here brooketh:
Prithee, mark Bess there anon,
If kind on Will she looketh.
Who loves truly, loves to hear
Tales, that increase his fire;
I, alas! bad tidings fear,
And yet for news inquire.





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