Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/483

 With Daniel she did dance, On me she look'd askance: O thrice unhappy chance! Phillada flouts me.

Fair maid, be not so coy, Do not disdain me! I am my mother's joy: Sweet, entertain me! She'll give me, when she dies, All that is fitting: Her poultry and her bees, And her goose sitting, A pair of mattrass beds, And a bag full of shreds; And yet, for all this guedes, Phillada flouts me!

She hath a clout of mine Wrought with blue Coventry, Which she keeps for a sign Of my fidelity: But i' faith, if she flinch She shall not wear it; To Tib, my t'other wench, I mean to bear it. And yet it grieves my heart So soon from her to part: Death strike me with his dart! Phillada flouts me.

Thou shalt eat crudded cream All the year lasting,

guedes] goods, property of any kind.