His Glofs is ftill upon him: Tho' 'tis true
He's yet unripe, yet take him for the blue.
You think an Apricot half green is best;

There's sweet and four: And one fide good at leaft.
Mango's and Limes, whofe Nourishment is little,
Tho' not for Food, are yet preferv'd for Pickle.
So this green Writer may pretend, at least,
To whet your Stomachs for a better Feaft.
He makes this difference in the Sexes too,
He fells to Men, he gives himself to you.
To both, he wou'd contribute fome Delight;
A meer Poetical Hermaphrodite.

Thus he's equipp'd, both to be woo'd, and woo;
With Arms offenfive, and defensive too;

Tis hard, he thinks, if neither part will do.

A

very ancient Song of the Banishment of the two Dukes of HEREFORD and NORFOLK, in the Time of King RICHARD the Second.

TWO

Wo noble Dukes of great Renown,
That long had liv'd in Fame,

Thro' hateful Envy were caft down,
And brought to fudden Shame;
The Duke of Hereford was the one,
A prudent Prince and wife,

'Gainft whom fuch Malice there was shown,
Which foon in fight did rife.

The Duke of Norfolk moft untrue,

Declar'd unto the King,

The Duke of Hereford greatly grew

In hatred of each thing,

Which by his Grace was acted ftill,
Against both High and Low;

And how he had a traiterous Will

His State to overthrow.

The Duke of Hereford then in hafte
Was fent for to the King,

And by the Lords, in order plac'd,
Examin'd of each thing;

Who being guiltless of this Crime,
Which was against him laid;
The Duke of Norfolk at that time
These Words unto him faid,

How canft thou with a fhameless Face
Deny a Truth fo ftout;

And here before his Royal Grace

So falfly face it out?

Did not these wicked Treafons país,
When we together were,

How that the King unworthy was
The Royal Crown to bear?
Wherefore, my gracious Lord, quoth he,
And you his noble Peers,
To whom I wifh long Life to be,
With many happy Years;

I do pronounce before you all,

This treacherous Lord that's here

A Traytor to our noble King,

As Time fhall fhew it clear.
The Duke of Hereford hearing that,
In Mind was grieved much,
And did return this Anfwer flat,

Which did Duke Norfolk touch:
The term of Traytor, truthless Duke,
In Scorn and great Difdain,
With flat Defiance to thy Face,
I do return again.

And therefore if it please your Grace

to grant me Leave, quoth he, To combate with my deadly Foe, That here accufeth me;

I do not doubt but plainly prove,
That like a perjur'd Knight,

He hath most falfly fought my Shame,
Against all Truth and Right.
The King did grant this juft Request,
And did therewith agree,

At Coventry in August next

This Combat fought fhould be.
The Dukes on sturdy Steeds full ftout,
In Coats of Steel most bright,
With Spears in Refts, did enter Lifts,
This Combat fierce to fight.

The King then caft his Warden down,
Commanding them to stay,

And with his Lords he Counsel took,
To ftint that mortal Fray;
At length unto thefe noble Dukes
The King of Heralds came,
And unto them with lofty Speech
This Sentence did proclaim,
Sir Henry Bullenbrook, this Day,
The Duke of Hereford here,
And Thomas Mewbry, Norfolk Duke,
Valiantly did appear:

And having in honourable fort,
Repaired to this Place,

Our noble King for special Cause

Hath alter'd thus the Cafe:

Firft, Henry Duke of Hereford,
E'er fifteen Days be paft,

Shall part the Realm on pain of Death,
While ten Years space doth laft.
And Thomas Duke of Norfolk now,
That hath begun this Strife,
And thereof no good Proof can bring,
I fay for Term of Life;

By Judgment of our Sovereign Lord,
Which now in Place doth stand,

For

For evermore I banish thee,

Out of thy Native Land:
Charging thee on Pain of Death,
When fifteen Days are paft,
Thou never tread on English Ground,
So long as Life doth laft.

Thus they were fworn before the King,
Ere they did further pass,

The one should never come in place
Where-as the other was.

Then both the Dukes with heavy Hearts
Were parted presently,

Their uncouth Streams of froward Chance
In Foreign Lands to try.

The Duke of Norfolk coming then

Where he would Shipping take,
The bitter Tears fell down his Cheeks,
And thus his Moan did make :
Now let me Sigh and Sob my fill,
Ere I from hence depart,

That inward Pangs with speed may bur
My fore afflicted Heart.

Oh curfed Man! whofe loathed Life
Is held fo much in fcorn,

Whose Company is clean despis'd,
And left as one forlorn:

Now take thy leave and laft adieu

Of this thy Country dear,
Which never more thou must behold,
Nor yet approach it near.

Now happy should I count my self,
If Death my Heart had torn:
That I might have my Bones entomb'd,
Where I was bred and born:

Or that by Neptune's wrathful Rage
I might be preft to dye,

Whilft that fweet England's pleafant Banks
Did ftand before mine Eye.

How fweet a Scent hath English Ground

Within my Senfes now?

How fair unto my outward fight

Seems ev'ry Branch and Bough?

The Fields and Flowers, the Streets and Stones,
Seem fuch unto my Mind,

That in all other Countries fure,
The like I ne'er fhall find.

O that the Sun with fhining Face
Would stay his Steed by ftrength,
That this fame Day might ftretched be
To twenty Years in length:
And that the true performing Tide
Her hafty Course would stay;
That Aölus would never yield
To bear me hence away.

.

That by the Fountain of my Eyes

The Fields might watered be,

That I might grave my grievous Plaint

Upon each springing Tree:

But Time, I fee, with Eagle's Wings
So fwift doth fly away;
And dusky Clouds begin to dim
The brightness of the Day:
The fatal Hour draweth on,
The Winds and Tides agree;
And now, sweet England, oversoon
I muft depart from thee:
The Mariners have hoifed Sail,
And call to catch me in,
And now in woful Heart I feel
My Torments to begin.
Wherefore farewel for evermore,
Sweet England, unto thee;

But farewel all my Friends, which I

Again fhall never fee:

And England here I kiss thy Ground,
Upon my bended Knee,