A TANKARD OF ALE An Anthology of Drinking Songs Compiled and Edited by Theodore Maynard Copyright, 1920, by Robert M. McBride & Co. Printed in the United States of America. Published, 1920 To all good fellows with whom I have drunk and to all who have drunk with me

          A TANKARD OF ALE

    An Anthology of Drinking Songs

         Compiled and Edited

                 by

          Theodore Maynard



         Copyright, 1920, by
      Robert M. McBride & Co.  

Printed in the United States of America.

           Published, 1920


To all good fellows with whom I have drunk
and to all who have drunk with me

Acknowledgment

The compiler and his publisher are indebted to the following American publishers for permission to include the poems named below in this volume: To Messrs. John Lane Company for permission to use "The Stoop of Rhenish" and "Song from New Year's Day," by John Davidson; "Old Noah," "Before the Roman Came to Rye," "A Cider Song" and "The Ballade of an Anti-Puritan," by G. K. Chesterton, and the poems "Cider Apples" and *Rum and Milk," by C. W. Dahnon; to The Macmillan Company for permission to use "Captain Stratton's Fancy." by John Masefield; to Messrs. Frederick A. Stokes Company for permission to use "The Mermaid Inn," by Alfred Noyes, and "A Drinking Song," "Triolet of Deplorable Sentiments" and "Ballade in Praise of Arundel," by Theodore Maynard; to Mr, Lawrence J. Gomme for permission to use Hilaire Belloc's "Drinking Song on the Excellence of Burgundy Wine" and his "West Sussex Drinking Song," and to The Bobbs Merrill Company for permission to use the "Song of the Pelagian Heresy" and "Drinking Song," by Hilaire Belloc.


A TANKARD OF ALE AN ANTHOLOGY OF DRINKING SONGS THEODORE MAYNARD ROBERT M. McBRIDE & COMPANY NEW YORK

INTRODUCTION

The publication of this anthology having been deferred till the end of the War the first section of this Introduction has already been included in a volume of my essays, "Carven from the Laurel Tree."

I

With the advent of the social reformer the very word 'beer' seems to have taken on a sinister sound, and is as much tabooed in polite society as the word 'trousers' was once said to have been. This harmless and refreshing drink has become credited with the most devilish properties and characteristics, so that when it has to be discussed (and Heaven only knows how much the thought of it disturbs the minds of meddlesome philanthropists) it must be referred to under the alias of 'alcohol' or 'the drinking habits of the lower classes.' Officialdom has beer on the brain — which is quite the wrong place for beer to be.

There is little wonder then that conviviality is a lost art and that in consequence the making of drinking songs has suffered a bad decline. 'Simon the Cellarer,' it is true, may still be allowed even among Nonconformists, but as it deals with 'Sack' and 'Canary' no real Puritan objection can be raised. In fact these somewhat heady liquors are very probably considered to be teetotal drinks — like Port. At any rate there is a pleasant and redeeming smack of archaism about their names. Beer, however, is quite another matter. One may only sing of that in a music-hall — and not too often even there.

Very delightful verses are still occasionally written about drinking, but generally these efforts have a purely literary inspiration and cannot be honored with the name of drinking songs. Thus Charles Stuart Calverly wrote, somewhere about the middle of last century, an elaborate treatise upon 'that mild, luxurious, and artful beverage, beer.' Yet in spite of the ode's noble apostrophe:

"Oh Beer! Oh Hodgson, Guinness, Allsopp, Bass!

Names that should be on every infant's tongue!"

we feel that Calverley's main interest lies in his poem rather than in his tankard. The elegant undergraduate speaks rather than the toper. And Mr. Housman, carolling:

"Malt does more than Milton can

To reconcile God's ways to man,"

seems to find more satisfaction in a happy alliteration than in his ale. He may be writing about malt — but the maltworm's note is absent.

More recently the mild Mr. Masefield has led his swaggering pirates on the stage, decked with striped jerseys and cutlasses and (that nothing be lacking in their artistic get-up) full of rum.

" 'Oh some are fond of fiddles and a song well sung,
 And some are all for music that you lilt upon the tongue.
But mouths were made for tankards and for sucking at the bung,'
Says the old, bold mate of Henry Morgan."

The unfortunate thing about this cheerful poem is that pirates do not talk like this — at least none of the pirates that I know do so.

Then Robert Louis Stevenson once created a pirate — not so gory and blasphemous as those who stalk about in Mr. Masefield's pages, but a very nice pirate all the same. Still, I don't think that:

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest —

Yo-ho! ho! and a bottle of rum,"

was exactly the kind of observation that John Silver and his companions would have been likely to make.

Songs of this type are all either offered with apologetic humorousness or an equally apologetic braggadocio. None of them come within miles of catching the simple seriousness of the genuine boozer. With hardly an exception, modern drinking songs appear to have been written either out of pleasant affectation or in order to point a moral. Beer was not made to be moralized about, but to be drunk.

Those old drinking songs, in which the English language is so happily rich, are in a different class. Among all their countless numbers there is no trace of such a thing as self-consciousness. They were not written to prove that beer ought to be consumed, but merely to celebrate the fact of its consumption, Shame-facedness or defence are entirely lacking in them. The only thing to be uttered is a peean of praise for a material blessing joyfully accepted.

"Back and side go bare, go bare!
Both foot and hand go cold!
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough
Whether it be new or old."

So wrote Bishop Still in the sixteenth century. But to-day we would draw long faces at such reprehensible remarks and talk solemnly about less beer and more boots — which is about as sensible as demanding less sun and more sandwiches! Perfect social reform casteth out conviviality.

I wonder what our advocates of intemperate tee-totalism would say to this rollicking chorus:

"I cannot go home, nor I will not go home —
It's long of the oyle of Barley; 
I'11 tarry all night for my delight
And go home in the morning early."

Such a note of vulgar human fellowship would be certain to scorch Mr. Cadbury's ears, could they hear it. Indeed, I often wonder whether it is not the fellowship that he objects to even more than its companion drink. Did he but walk down Fleet Street arm-in-arm with Mr. Gardiner and Dr. Clifford, the three of them bawling out:

"Tea! Tea! Glorious Tea!"

at the top of their voices, what man is there would not join in? Why cannot they sing:

"Come pass the ginger-pop around
And let us wet our noses;
It is the best nectar found
Since Noah or since Moses —
With my iddly-ow: ti-rumpity-dow,
Since Noah or since Moses!"

at a P.S.A. with Mr. Arthur Henderson booming in with a stentorian bass, and Mr. Philip Snowden with a ringing tenor? On the day that they do, ten million converts will flock to their cause.

But alas! the teetotallers have triumphed! If they have not altogether succeeded in putting down beer (in their sense of the term), they have at least succeeded in throwing a blight over our songs. If we have not become sober, we have become sad — and that is something! Mr. Chesterton has to ask plaintively who will write us a drinking song, and, upon getting no replies, has to set to work himself. But, though writing some glorious verses in his attempt, he has on the whole failed through his inability to forget the earnest face of the Puritan, whose pale disgust is like a skeleton at his feast. He, too, is the victim of his environment. How can he sing the songs of Zion beside the waters oi Babylon? Beer, to him, has ceased to be merely beer—but has become the touchstone of economics, politics, and philosophy—so that the whole of our modern contempt for the poor can be set against the drinking of one honest half-pint.

"I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
And for to fight the Frenchman I did not mudh desire;
But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed
To straighten out the crooked road an English drunkard made.
Where you and I went down the lane with ale-mugs in our hands.
The night we went to Glastonbury by way of Goodwin sands."

Even here the facts of the French Revolution and the tyranny of the countryside have to be dragged in, and the whole history of England flung down as a challenging gage.

One of the few genuine modern drinking songs was made when Mr. Belloc wrote:

"If I should be what I never shall be.
The Master or the Squire;
If you gave me the hundred from here to the sea.
Which is more than I desire.
Then all my crops should be barley and hops.
And did my harvest fail,
I would sell every rood of my acres I would
For a bellyful of good ale."

But even Mr. Belloc can rarely achieve anything so single-minded as this. In an age of unbelief he has to testify to eternal truth with a rousing bar-parlor chorus, and lays his tankard about him as a truncheon in defence of the Catholic Church:

"So thank the Lord for the temporal sword.
And for howling heretics too.
And for all the good things that our Christendom brings,
But especially barley brew!"

It is perfectly true that wine is intimately, although obscurely, connected with the Faith, and Mr. Belloc is quite right when he shouts out at the top of his voice that barley brew is one of the good things that we owe to Christendom; but this, though consoling to the soul and clarifying to the mind, certainly makes our drinking songs complicated. The boozer's thoughts ought to be on his pot — not on the Pope. But what with having Catholicism bellowed in at one ear and Puritanism snuffled in at the other, the poor man in the pub must get sorely distracted at times. Cannot he be left alone with his beer in peace?

II

In this book I have tried (I trust successfully) to offer to my readers practically the whole cream of our convivial songs. But since a man must set a limit to his work, I tried to omit everything that was not English in its spirit and in its authorship. So strict a line being impossible, I have compromised to the extent of admitting poems by Scotsmen and Irishmen, while excluding their work when in dialect. It was, however, with real sorrow that I had to stop my ears to the rollicking chorus of Burns:

"We are na fu'; we are na fu';
But just a drappie in the ee.
The cock may craw; the day may daw —
But still we'll drink the barley bree."

I have made no attempt to preserve an exact chronological order, but have arranged the songs in what is the most satisfactory sequence that I could devise.

The notes are reduced to a minimum, for while many interesting ones might have been made, this book is rather intended for tapsters than for antiquaries—for those who would drink sack (were any to be had) rather than for those who propound learned theories as to what it really was.

In many instances a song has been reproduced before in several collections. In such cases I have contented myself with merely indicating one of the works where it may be found. Among the numerous books and broadsheets consulted in the compilation of my anthology I may mention the following: "The Percy Society's Edition of Songs and Carols"; "Chappell's Collections"; Evan's "Old Ballads"; "The Roxburghe Ballads"; D'Urfey's "Pills to Purge Melancholy"; J. W. Ebsworth's Collections; Ashton's "Wit, Humor, and Satire of the Seventeenth Century"; Ritson's "Ancient Songs"; Robert Bell's "Ancient Poems, Ballads, and Songs of the English Peasantry"; W. T. Merchant's "In Praise of Ale", and Sir Alexander Croke's "Essay on Rhyming Latin Verse." A special mention must be made of "Songs of the Vine," an admirable anthology compiled by the late William G. Hutchison and published in 1904 by Mr. A. H. Bullen. The copyright is now held by Messrs. Sidgwick and Jackson, Ltd., who, with what can only be described as extravagant generosity, put the book at my disposal

To the modern authors herein represented and to their publishers my hearty thanks are due for their permission to include so much. The following have by their courtesy enabled me to offer to my readers not only the best of the older drinking songs but also the best drinking songs of our own day: Mr. Hilaire Belloc and his publishers, Messrs. Duckworth and Co. and Messrs. Thos. Nelson and Sons; Mr. E. C. Bentley; Mrs. Cecil Chesterton, who allowed me to use a ballade of the late Cecil Chesterton; Mr. G. K. Chesterton and his publishers, Messrs. Methuen and Co., Ltd., and Messrs. Burns and Gates; Mr. Gerald Cumberland; Mr. Geoffrey Howard; Mr. John Masefield, whose permission was confirmed by Mr. Elkin Mathews, who also gave permission for the reprinting of John Davidson's "Ballade of the Cheshire Cheese," from the "Book of Rhymers' Club"; Mr. Alfred Noyes and his publishers, Messrs. Wm. Blackwood and Sons; Mr. John Lane for two poems by John Davidson and two by Mr. C. W. Dalmon; and Mr. T. Michael Pope for a poem and for many valuable suggestions.

I would like to have been able to include an extract from "A Shropshire Lad," but Professor A. E. Housman refuses all anthologists; and Mr. Austin Dobson has declined to consent to "The Maltworm's Madrigal" appearing here. I regret both these omissions; still more do I regret the reason (given me by the author) for the second of these refusals, which is that Mr. Dobson is a water-drinker of many years standing!

There are some good American drinking songs, but a Prohibitionist nation does not deserve to be represented in the jolliest book in the world.

III

Songs of any sort are the best of indications of the national spirit, and consequently the safest guide to history. Especially is this true of English drinking-songs wherein are to be found all the good-humor and pugnacity of our race.

"Our ports like our hearts shall be open and free;
We scorn for to fly or entrench:
Take your liquor, my bucks, take your liquor with glee;
Down with that and then down with the French."

is the right note.

In many of our drinking songs, moreover, we are not content with merely calling for the destruction of the French, but for French wines, and even of any drinks which do not happen to be our favorite tipple. The traditional English exclusiveness only too often wrecks the broad catholic spirit of:

"Then let us be merry, wash sorrow away!

Wine, beer and ale shall be drunk to-day."

The beer-drinker instead will thirst for the blood of the wine-bibbler and vice versa.

"Let us sing our own treasures, old England's good cheer,
The profits and pleasures of stout British beer;
Your wine-tipping, dram-sipping fellows retreat,
But your beer-drinking Briton can never be beat."

All our taverns ring with the praises of beer. The eternal anthem is:

"I likes a drop of good beer, I does!"

so that it is left to Mr. Masefield, with whom it is more (I suspect) a matter of professional interest than of genuine conviction, to tell us (the old sea-dog!) that rum's alone the tipple; while Mr. Belloc, mellow with memories of French vineyards, sings:

"Burgundy's Burgundy all the year round."

But although beer is our national beverage and should accordingly be praised by patriotic Englishmen (not to mention the noble fellows who according to Mr. Lloyd George helped to pay for the war with every glass they drank), it must not be forgotten that when, with the introduction of hops into this country, the brewing of beer, as distinct from ale, was made possible, a despondent rhymer was moved to write:

"Carp, Heresy, Hops and Beer

All came into England in one year."

After all that poets have told us of the merits of ale (for who ever heard tell of a teetotal bard worth his salt?) — of its potency, its bravery, its honor, its laughter, its kindliness, its simplicity, its power to confute cranks and mean men, its profundity, its wisdom, its health, its robustness, its helpfulness, its generosity, its sum-total of all perfection, can any be found to rebuke us for our love? Yes. Unfortunately there are men so degraded and inhuman as not only to reject it themselves but to attempt also to prevent others from proving its goodness. The political mind, which can only find a complex solution (which by the way never does solve) for what it euphemistically terms the "drink problem," always misses what is direct and effective. For when such a mind in its blundering yet sophisticated way perceives that harm is often brought to the poor of our slums by their drinking bad beer, it fatuously proceeds in the holy name of Social Reform to set wrong right by making beer worse and by forbidding the poor to treat their friends in a pub!

Reasons for Drinking	Henry Aldrich	23
Back and Side Go Bare, Go Bare,	John Still	24
A Catch in Four Parts	Thomas Shadwell	26
Come, Landlord, Fill a Flowing Bowl		27
A Health to All Good Fellowes		28
The Merry Fellows		32
Hermit Hoar, in Solemn Cell.	Samuel Johnson	34
With an Honest Old Friend.	Henry Carey	35
Sons of the Mug		36
Make Me a Bowl	John Oldham	37
Tosse the Pot	Thomas Ravenscroft	40
All You that are Good Fellows		42
Good Ale for My Money	Lawrence Price	44
I Am the Jolly Prince of Drinkers		47
The World Drowned in a Glass		49
Prithee Fill Me My Glass	William Congreve	50
Song from "The Duenna."	R. B. Sheridan	51
The Toper's Rant.	John Clare	52
Booze is There		54
Three Men of Gotham.	Thomas Love Peacock	56
Glee from "Headlong Hall"	Thomas Love Peacock	57
Song from "Headlong Hall."	Thomas Love Peacock	58
We'll Dine and Drink	Thomas Love Peacock	59
Song	Gerald Cumberland	60
Cast Away Care	Thomas Dekker	62
Drink To-Day	John Fletcher	63
Drinking Commended	Sir John Suckling	64
The Jovial Drinker		65
The Tippling Philosophers		66
The Three Pigeons	Oliver Goldsmith	70
Fill the Goblet Again	Lord Byron	71
Goldthread's Song	Sir Walter Scott	73
Lines on the Mermaid Tavern	John Keats	74
The Mermaid Inn	Alfred Noyes	75
Anacreontiques, No. 2	Abraham Cowley	76
The Jolly Bacchanal		77
Come, Thou Monarch of the Vine	William Shakeapeare	78
Bacchus	Hugh Crompton	79
Bacchus' Health		81
A Song on Bacchus		82
A Drinking Song	Henry Carey	84
A Bacchanal		85
To Live Merrily, and to Trust to Good Verses	Robert Herrick	86
A Round	William Browne	88
Here's a Health	Thomas Jordan	89
A Catch Royal	Thomas Jordan	90
Down Among the Dead Men	John Dyer	91
Song from "The School for Scandal"	Richard Brindley Sheridan	92
One Bumper at Parting	Thomas Moore	94
A Dialogue		96
The Epicure.	Abraham Cowley	97
Drink! Drink! the Red Red Wine		98
A Stoop of Rhenish	John Davidson	99
Drinking Song on the Excellence of Burgundy Wine	Hilaire Belloc	101
Song in Praise of Ale		102
In Praise of Ale		104
Bryng Us in Good Ale		105
Wassail		107
The Nut-Brown Ale	John Marston	108
Ballad on Ale	John Gay	109
I Likes a Drop of good Beer, I Does	"Barclay Perkins"	111
Beer, Boys, Beer		115
The Beer-drinking Briton		116
English Bright Beer		117
A Glass of Old English Ale	J. Caxton	119
Glorious Beer		121
English Ale	William Harrison Ainsworth	122
Beer	C. S. Calverley	124
Cider Apples	C. W. Dalmon	128
A Cider Song	G. K. Chesterton	129
Inishowen	William Maginn	130
Rum and Milk	C. W. Dalmon	131
Captain Stratton's Fancy	John Masefield	132
The Leather Bottel		134
There was a Poor Smith		137
Joan's Ale Was New		141
Do Nothing but Eat	William Shakespeare	143
With Never a Penny of Money	Thomas Ravenscroft	144
Come, All You Jolly Watermen		145
Three Man Song	Thomas Dekker	146
The Cobblers' Catch	Robert Herrick	147
The Hop Planter's Song		148
The Churn Supper		149
The Country Farmer's Vain Glory		151
The Barley Mow		152
Harvest Songs		155
St. Giles's Bowl	William Harrison Ainsworth	156
From "New Year's Day"	John Davidson	158
The Monks of the Screw	John Philpot Curran	160
Friar's Song	William Makepeace Thackeray	162
The Ghosts	Thomas Love Peacock	163
The Friar	Owen Jones	164
Commanders of the Faithful	William Makepeace Thackeray	165
The Little Vagabond	William Blake	166
Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes	Ben Jonson	167
The Toper	Tom D'Urfey	168
The Jolly Toper		169
Now I'm Resolved to Love no More	Alexander Brome	171
In Praise of the Bottle	Tom Brown	172
Song of a Fallen Angel over a Bowl of Rum-Punch	John Wilson, "Christopher North"	173
Song of the Pelagian Heresy	Hilaire Belloc	175
Wine and Water	G. K. Chesterton	177
The Rolling English Road	G. K. Chesterton	179
A (Temperance) Drinking Song	Geoffrey Howard	181
A Song of Time's Meridian	T. Michael Pope	184
Drinking Song	Theodore Menard	185
Triolet of Deplorable Sentiments	Theodore Maynard	187
Ballade of the "Cheshire Cheese" in Fleet Street	John Davidson	188
Ballade of Liquid Refreshment	E. C. Bentley	189
A Ballade of an Anti-Puritan	G. K. Chesterton	190
A Ballade of Professional Pride	Cecil Chesterton	191
Ballade in Praise of Arundel	Theodore Maynard	192
I've Bin to Plymouth		193
Nottingham Ale		194
Warrington Ale		195
West Sussex Drinking Song.	Hilaire Belloc	197
Drinking Song	Hilaire Belloc	198
Latin Songs--
Mihi est Propositum	Walter Mapes	199
De admirandis viri virtutibus		200
Back and Side Go Bare, Go Bare (Trans.)	Dr. Maginn	201

A fool am I, for money slips	60
A Heeltap! A Heeltap! I never could bear it	57
A jolly fat friar loved liquor good store	164
All you that are good fellows	42
A plague on all fools who proclaim against wine	65
Bacchus, god of mortal pleasure	85
Bacchus must his power resign	84
Back and side go bare, go bare	24
Beer, beef, glorious beer	121
Beer! boys, beer! no more absurd restrictions	115
Before the Roman came to Rye	179
Be merry, my friends, and list a while	44
Be merry, my hearts, and call for your quarts	28
Bryng us in good ale, and bryng us in good ale	105
Cast away care; be that loves sorrow	62
Cold's the wind. and wet's the rain	146
Come, all ye jolly Bacchanals	77
Come, all you jolly watermen	145
Come, come, my old cronies and gay fellows	53
Come, Jolly god Bacchus, and open thy store	79
Come, landlord, fill a flowing bowl until it does run over	17
Come, lay by your cares, and hang up your sorrow	26
Come, let the State stay	64
Come, my jolly brisk boys, lay your hop-poles aside	148
Come, neighbors all, both great and small	111
Come, sit we by the fireside	147
Come, thou monarch of the vine	78
Dear mother, dear mother, the church is cold	166
Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer	143
Drink! drink! the red, red wine	98
Drink to-day and drown all sorrow	63
Drink to me only with thine eyes	167
Fill the bowl with rosy wine	97
Fill the gobtet again! for I never before	71
God above who rules all things	134
God rest you, merry gentlemen	149
Heap on more coal there	173
Here's a health to jolly Bacchus	81
Here's a health to the barley mow, my brave boys	152
Here's a health to the king and a lasting peace	91
Here's a health unto his Majesty	89
Here's a health unto our Master, the founder of the feast	155
Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen	92
Hermit hoar, in solemn cell	34
I am the jolly prince of drinkers	47
I care not a fig for a flagon of flip	130
If all be true that I do think	23
If I drink water while this doth last	59
If sorrow, the tyrant, invade the breast	36
I know a house of antique ease	188
In his last bin Sir Peter lies	58
In life three ghostly friars were we	163
In those old days which poets say were golden	124
I've bin to Plymouth, and I've bin to Doöver	193
I've trudged along the Pilgrims' Way	192
I wouldn't sell my noble thirst	187
Landlord, I mean to sing to-night	181
Last night we started with some dry vermouth	189
Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain	70
Let the drawer run down	90
Make me a bowl, a mighty bowl	38
Mihi est propositium in taberna mori	199
My jolly fat host with your face all agrin	101
Non possum multum edere	201
Now I'm resolved to love no more	171
Now is the time for mirth	86
Now since we're met, let's merry, merry be	32
Now some may drink to ladies fine	131
Now that the spring hath filled our veins	88
Of all the birds on bush or tree	73
O, froth me a flagon of English ale	122
Oh, some are fond of red wine sod and some are fond of white	132
Oh, the days when I was young	51
Old Noah he had an ostrich farm and fowls on the largest scale	177
One bumper at parting!—though many	95
On Sussex hills where I was bred	198
Our oats they are hoed, and our barley's reap'd	151
Pelagius lived in Kardanoel	175
Prithee fill me my glass	50
Quicunque vult esse frater	300
Seamen three! what men are ye	56
She tells me with claret she cannot agree	166
Since there's so small difference 'twixt drowning and drinking	82
Sing hey for the journalist	158
Some choose to worship in the church	138
Some love the matin-chimes, which tell	162
Souls of poets dead and gone	74
Submit, bunch of grapes	102
The "Cardinal's Hat" is a very good inn	75
The nut-brown ale, the nut-brown ale	108
The Pope he is a happy man	165
There was a poor smith lived in a poor toun	137
There were six jovial tradesmen	141
The thirsty earth soaks up the rain	76
The wine they drink in Paradise	129
The women all tell me I'm false to my lass	169
They sell good beer at Haslemere	197
They spoke of Progress spring round	190
They talk about their foreign wines—Champagne and bright Moselle	119
This is our Mistress's health, merrily singing	155
'Tis half-past six—with eager strlde	184
Tosse the pot, tosse the pot, let us be merry	40
Wassail! Wassail! all over the toun	107
We be souldiers three	144
What a plague d'ye tell me of the Papists' designs?	172
What need we take care for Platonical rules	49
When as the Chilehe Rocko blowes	104
When dogs in office frown you down	99
When Horace wrote his noble verse	185
When humming bright beer was an Englishman's taste	117
When St. Patrick this order established	160
When Venus, the goddess of beauty and love	194
Where St. Giles's Church stands, once a lazar-house stood	156
Where the wintry winds are blowing	54
While some in epic strains	109
Wise Thales. the father of all	66
With an honest old friend and a merry old song	35
Ye true, honest Britons, who love your own land	116
You ask me how I manage to consume	191
Your doctors may boast of their lotions	195

Acknowledgment

INTRODUCTION

I

II

III

CONTENTS

LATIN SONGS

INDEX OF FIRST LINES