Ancient Poems [14]
the world was destroyed by a deluging flood.
Noah he was virtuous in the sight of the Lord, He loved a freemason that kept the secret word; For he built the ark, and he planted the first vine, Now his soul in heaven like an angel doth shine.
Once I was blind, and could not see the light, Then up to Jerusalem I took my flight, I was led by the evangelist through a wilderness of care, You may see by the sign and the badge that I wear.
On the 13th rose the ark, let us join hand in hand, For the Lord spake to Moses by water and by land, Unto the pleasant river where by Eden it did rin, And Eve tempted Adam by the serpent of sin.
When I think of Moses it makes me to blush, All on mount Horeb where I saw the burning bush; My shoes I'll throw off, and my staff I'll cast away, And I'll wander like a pilgrim unto my dying day.
When I think of Aaron it makes me to weep, Likewise of the Virgin Mary who lay at our Saviour's feet; 'Twas in the garden of Gethsemane where he had the bloody sweat; Repent, my dearest brethren, before it is too late.
I thought I saw twelve dazzling lights, which put me in surprise, And gazing all around me I heard a dismal noise; The serpent passed by me which fell unto the ground, With great joy and comfort the secret word I found.
Some say it is lost, but surely it is found, And so is our Saviour, it is known to all around; Search all the Scriptures over, and there it will be shown; The tree that will bear no fruit must be cut down.
Abraham was a man well beloved by the Lord, He was true to be found in great Jehovah's word, He stretched forth his hand, and took a knife to slay his son, An angel appearing said, The Lord's will be done!
O, Abraham! O, Abraham! lay no hand upon the lad, He sent him unto thee to make thy heart glad; Thy seed shall increase like stars in the sky, And thy soul into heaven like Gabriel shall fly.
O, never, O, never will I hear an orphan cry, Nor yet a gentle virgin until the day I die; You wandering Jews that travel the wide world round, May knock at the door where truth is to be found.
Often against the Turks and Infidels we fight, To let the wandering world know we're in the right, For in heaven there's a lodge, and St. Peter keeps the door, And none can enter in but those that are pure.
St. Peter he opened, and so we entered in, Into the holy seat secure, which is all free from sin; St. Peter he opened, and so we entered there, And the glory of the temple no man can compare.
Poem: GOD SPEED THE PLOW, AND BLESS THE CORN-MOW. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE HUSBANDMAN AND SERVINGMAN.
The tune is, I AM THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.
[THIS ancient dialogue, though in a somewhat altered form (see the ensuing poem), has long been used at country merry-makings. It is transcribed from a black-letter copy in the third volume of the Roxburgh collection, apparently one of the imprints of Peter Brooksby, which would make the composition at least as old as the close of the fifteenth century. There are several dialogues of a similar character.]
ARGUMENT.
The servingman the plowman would invite To leave his calling and to take delight; But he to that by no means will agree, Lest he thereby should come to beggary. He makes it plain appear a country life Doth far excel: and so they end the strife.
MY noble friends give ear, if mirth you love to hear, I'll tell you as fast as I can, A story very true, then mark what doth ensue, Concerning of a husbandman. A servingman did meet a husbandman in the street, And thus unto him began:
SERVINGMAN.
I pray you tell to me of what calling you be, Or if you be a servingman?
HUSBANDMAN.
Quoth he, my brother dear, the coast I mean to clear, And the truth you shall understand: I do no one disdain, but this I tell you plain, I am an honest husbandman.
SERVINGMAN.
If a husbandman you be, then come along with me, I'll help you as soon as I can Unto a gallant place, where in a little space, You shall be a servingman.
HUSBANDMAN.
Sir, for your diligence I give you many thanks, These
Noah he was virtuous in the sight of the Lord, He loved a freemason that kept the secret word; For he built the ark, and he planted the first vine, Now his soul in heaven like an angel doth shine.
Once I was blind, and could not see the light, Then up to Jerusalem I took my flight, I was led by the evangelist through a wilderness of care, You may see by the sign and the badge that I wear.
On the 13th rose the ark, let us join hand in hand, For the Lord spake to Moses by water and by land, Unto the pleasant river where by Eden it did rin, And Eve tempted Adam by the serpent of sin.
When I think of Moses it makes me to blush, All on mount Horeb where I saw the burning bush; My shoes I'll throw off, and my staff I'll cast away, And I'll wander like a pilgrim unto my dying day.
When I think of Aaron it makes me to weep, Likewise of the Virgin Mary who lay at our Saviour's feet; 'Twas in the garden of Gethsemane where he had the bloody sweat; Repent, my dearest brethren, before it is too late.
I thought I saw twelve dazzling lights, which put me in surprise, And gazing all around me I heard a dismal noise; The serpent passed by me which fell unto the ground, With great joy and comfort the secret word I found.
Some say it is lost, but surely it is found, And so is our Saviour, it is known to all around; Search all the Scriptures over, and there it will be shown; The tree that will bear no fruit must be cut down.
Abraham was a man well beloved by the Lord, He was true to be found in great Jehovah's word, He stretched forth his hand, and took a knife to slay his son, An angel appearing said, The Lord's will be done!
O, Abraham! O, Abraham! lay no hand upon the lad, He sent him unto thee to make thy heart glad; Thy seed shall increase like stars in the sky, And thy soul into heaven like Gabriel shall fly.
O, never, O, never will I hear an orphan cry, Nor yet a gentle virgin until the day I die; You wandering Jews that travel the wide world round, May knock at the door where truth is to be found.
Often against the Turks and Infidels we fight, To let the wandering world know we're in the right, For in heaven there's a lodge, and St. Peter keeps the door, And none can enter in but those that are pure.
St. Peter he opened, and so we entered in, Into the holy seat secure, which is all free from sin; St. Peter he opened, and so we entered there, And the glory of the temple no man can compare.
Poem: GOD SPEED THE PLOW, AND BLESS THE CORN-MOW. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE HUSBANDMAN AND SERVINGMAN.
The tune is, I AM THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.
[THIS ancient dialogue, though in a somewhat altered form (see the ensuing poem), has long been used at country merry-makings. It is transcribed from a black-letter copy in the third volume of the Roxburgh collection, apparently one of the imprints of Peter Brooksby, which would make the composition at least as old as the close of the fifteenth century. There are several dialogues of a similar character.]
ARGUMENT.
The servingman the plowman would invite To leave his calling and to take delight; But he to that by no means will agree, Lest he thereby should come to beggary. He makes it plain appear a country life Doth far excel: and so they end the strife.
MY noble friends give ear, if mirth you love to hear, I'll tell you as fast as I can, A story very true, then mark what doth ensue, Concerning of a husbandman. A servingman did meet a husbandman in the street, And thus unto him began:
SERVINGMAN.
I pray you tell to me of what calling you be, Or if you be a servingman?
HUSBANDMAN.
Quoth he, my brother dear, the coast I mean to clear, And the truth you shall understand: I do no one disdain, but this I tell you plain, I am an honest husbandman.
SERVINGMAN.
If a husbandman you be, then come along with me, I'll help you as soon as I can Unto a gallant place, where in a little space, You shall be a servingman.
HUSBANDMAN.
Sir, for your diligence I give you many thanks, These