 | Anne Evans: Poems and Music |  |
xix
OUR BAS.
A FRAGMENT.
Oure Bas hee rode to ye College,
The College in Cambrydge towne,
There to consort with learned men,
Alle clad in cappe and gowne.
The College in Cambrydge towne,
There to consort with learned men,
Alle clad in cappe and gowne.
“My sisters twain they sit att home,
They can both reade and spell:
I'll e'en go write a faire Letter;
They like of soche full well.”
They can both reade and spell:
I'll e'en go write a faire Letter;
They like of soche full well.”
His sisters twayne they sit att home,
A breaking of their fast:
The yonger one gives over anone,
But the elder is Lagge Laste.
A breaking of their fast:
The yonger one gives over anone,
But the elder is Lagge Laste.
“Who steppes soe nimbly over the stones,
So nimbly to ye Gate?
Methinkes itt is the Poste-man,
Now see hee doe not wayte.”
So nimbly to ye Gate?
Methinkes itt is the Poste-man,
Now see hee doe not wayte.”
xx
“O welcome hither, Poste-man,
I fain wolde understande
Whose are those same ystampt Lettres
Thou bringest in thy Hande?
I fain wolde understande
Whose are those same ystampt Lettres
Thou bringest in thy Hande?
“I see a Lettre for Will ye Millar,
And another for Maistre Ball;
But I see a Lettre from faire Cambridge
To mee is woorth them alle.”
And another for Maistre Ball;
But I see a Lettre from faire Cambridge
To mee is woorth them alle.”
“Read now the newes of our yonge brother,
Come, read them straight away.”
“O here bee passing straunge tydinges
I read of hym this daye.
Come, read them straight away.”
“O here bee passing straunge tydinges
I read of hym this daye.
“For hee will none of his brave lernynge,
But, forsooth, a brave yonge bride;
And he dwelleth in a dwelling-house,
With a mother-in-law besyde.
But, forsooth, a brave yonge bride;
And he dwelleth in a dwelling-house,
With a mother-in-law besyde.
“He may not wend to gay Bosworth
Never no more at alle;
But he sends a tuft of his wyfe her haire,
A short one and a smalle.
Never no more at alle;
But he sends a tuft of his wyfe her haire,
A short one and a smalle.
“I have seen many Gentilwomen,
Uncomely ones and faire;
But I never sawe no Gentilwoman
With the lyke motley haire!”
Uncomely ones and faire;
But I never sawe no Gentilwoman
With the lyke motley haire!”
March 23, 1852.
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