And that brave young Cavalier, ready to do and dare!
She will find him near the bridge-she is gone to seek him there,
Close beside old Newark's walls, but he never heard them ring
With many children shouting "For God and for the King!"

THE SIEGE OF NEWARK: A SONG.

This song is said to have been written during the siege of Newark, in order to cheer the garrison, by Cleveland, the Judge Advocate:

Our braines are asleepe, then fyll us a cupp

Of cappering sack and clarett;

Here is a health to King Charles! then drink it all up

His cause will fare better for itt.

Did not an old arky save Noye in flood?

Why may not a new arke to us be as good?

We dread not their forces, they are all made of wood.

Then wheele and turn about againe.

Though all beyond Trent be sold to the Scott,
To men of new protestation,

If Sandye come here, 'twill to their Lott
To have new-signed possession;
But if Lesly gett (them) in his power,,
God's Learde! heele play the devil and all!
But let him take heed how he comes here,
Lest Sweetlipps ring him a peal in his eare.
Then toss it up merrilye, fill to the brim !
We have a new health to remember;

Here's a health to our garrison! drink it to them,
Theyle keepe us warme in December.

I care not a figg what enemy comes,

For we doe account them but hop-of-my-thumbes;
For Morrise our prince is coming amaine
To rowte and make them run againe.

THORNEY WOOD MOOR.

In Thorney Moor Wood in Nottinghamshire,
Three keepers house stood three square,
And about a mile from each other were,
Their orders were to look after the deer,

I went out with my dog one night,

The moon shone clear and the stars gave light,

Over hedges and ditches and rails,

With my two dogs close at my heels,

To catch a fine buck in Thorney Moor field.

The very first night we had bad luck,
One of our best dogs got stuck,

He came to me both bloody and lame,
And sorry I was to see the same,

I searched his wound and found it light,
Some keeper has done this out of spite,
But I take this pike staff in hand,

I will range the wood to find the man,
I will tan his hide right well if I can.

I ranged the woods and groves all night,
I ranged the woods till it proved daylight,
The very first thing that there I found,

Was a good fat buck lay dead on the ground,
I knew my dog gave him his death wound,
My dogs they know me by my call,

I out with my knife, I cut the buck's throat,

And you would have laugh'd to see limping Jacke,
To see how he strutted with the buck on his back,
He carried it just like a Yorkshire man's pack.

I hired a butcher to skin the game,
Likewise another to sell the same,

The very first buck he offered for sale,

Was to a woman that sold bad ale,

And she sent us three poor lads to gaol,

But the quarter sessions were drawing nigh at hand,

At which we were all to be tried,

The gentlemen laugh'd them all to scorn,

That such an old woman should be foresworn,

She all to pieces ought to be torn.

The sessions are over and we are all clear,

The sessions are over and we all sit here,

The very best game I ever did see,
Was a buck or deer but a deer for me,
Thorney woods this night I'll see.

THE THREE MEN OF GOTHAM.

In the collection of ancient ballads and songs, written between 1560 and 1700, known as the Roxburghe Ballads, is preserved a ballad called

"The choice of Inventions, or several sorts of the figure of three, That are newly compos'd as you may here see;

Then lend your attention you shall hear anon;

It goes to the tune of Rock the Cradle, sweet John.""

The first of these "

give:

"figures" only relates to Gotham, which we

"There were three men of Gotham,

as I have heard men say,

D

That needs would ride a hunting
upon Saint David's day.

Though all the day they hunting were,

yet no sport could they see,

Untill they spide an Owle,

as she sate in a tree.

The first man said it 'twas a Goose,

the second man say nay,

The third man said it was a Hawke,

but his Bels were falne away:

(Chorus.) There was an Ewe had three Lambes,
and one of them was black;

There was a man had three sonnes,

Jeffery, James, and Jacke;

The one was hang'd, the other drowned,
The third was lost and never found,

The old man he fell in a sownd:

Come, fill us a cup of sack."

FAIR MAID OF CLIFTON.

This ballad will be found in the first series of this publication.

NOTTINGHAM ALE.

This Bacchanalian song was written by an officer of the Royal Navy, named Gunthorpe, in praise of a barrel of Nottingham ale which had been sent to him by his brother, who kept the Punch Bowl, in Peck Lane. Its first appearance in print, as far as we can learn, was in 1752, when it appeared anonymously in the Gentleman's Magazine (xxii., 38). It was sung to the tune of "Lillyburlero," a tune which was very popular in one of the James' time. "Nottingham Ale" was very popular about the close of the last and the commencement of the present century. Goldsmith was never tired of hearing this song sung, at the Globe, in Fleet Street. Blackner reprinted it in his history of the town, but omitted the last verse on account of its immodesty. Mr. (now the Rev.) W. H. Wylie, in his Old and New Nottingham, first edition, in addition to this elimination, altered a line, not desiring to perpetuate the improprieties of a licentious age. It also appears in Chappell's Popular Songs of the Olden Time, and in one of Such's broadsides. We now reprint it, although our sentiments are the the reverse of those expressed in these lines :-

Fair Venus, the goddess of beauty and love,
Arose from the froth which swam on the sea;

Minerva leapt out of the cranium of Jove,

A coy sullen slut, as most authors agree:

Bold Bacchus, they tell us, the prince of good fellows,
Was a natural son-pray attend to my tale;

But they that thus chatter, mistake quite the matter
He sprung from a barrel of Nottingham ale.
Chorus. Nottingham ale, boys, Nottingham ale;
No liquor on earth like Nottingham ale.

And having survey'd well the cask whence he sprung,
For want of more liquor, low spirited grew !

And away to the gods and goddesses flew;
But, when he looked down, and saw the fair town,
To pay it due honours, not likely to fail;
He swore that on earth, 'twas the place of his birth,
And the best-and no liquor like Nottingham ale.

Chorus. Nottingham ale, &c.

Ye bishops and deacons, priests, curates, and vicars,
When once you have tasted you'll own it is true,
That Nottingham ale is the best of all liquors ;
And who understands the good creature like you ?
It expels every vapour-saves pen, ink, and paper;
And when you're disposed from the pulpit to rail,
"Twill open your throats-you may preach without notes,
When inspired with a bumper of Nottingham ale.
Chorus. Nottingham ale, &c.

Ye doctors, who do more execution

With powder and bolus, with potion and pill;
Than hangsman with halter, or soldier with gun;
Than miser with famine, or lawyer with quill;
To dispatch us the quicker, you forbid us malt liquor
Till our bodies consume, and our faces grow pale;
But mind it, what pleases, and cures all diseases,
Is a comforting dose of good Nottingham ale.
Chorus. Nottingham ale, &c.

Ye poets, who brag of the Helicon brook,
The nectar of gods, and the juice of the vine;
You say none can write well, except they invoke

The friendly assistance of one of the nine-
Here's liquor surpasses the streams of Parnassus,

The nectar ambrosia, on which gods regale!

Experience will show it, nought makes a good poet
Like quantum sufficit of Nottingham ale!

Chorus. Nottingham ale, &c.

The immodesty of the last verse causes us to omit it. The song is given in its entirety in our copy.

THE UNCONSCIONABLE BACHELORS OF DARBY;

OR, THE YOUNG LASSES PAWN'D BY THEIR SWEETHEARTS FOR A LARGE RECKONING AT NOTTINGHAM GOOSE FAIR, WHERE POOR SUSAN WAS FORC'D TO PAY THE SHOT.

This ballad, which is sung to the tune of "To thee, to thee, &c.," is reprinted from the collection in the British Museum, known as the Roxburghe Collection. It is in black-letter, and is "adorned" with three woodcuts, curious in execution. The imprint is"Printed for J. Bessel, in West-Smithfield."

You lovers of mirth attend a while

a merry new Ditty here I write

I know it will make you laugh and smile

for every line affords delight:

The Lasses of Darby with young Men

they went to Goose-fair for recreation

But how these Sparkes did serve them then
is truly worth your observation,

Truly, truly, worth your observation,
therefore I pray observe this Ditty

The maids did complain they came there in vain
and was not, was not that a pity?

So soon as they came into the Fair

the Batchellers made them conlues low And bid them a thousand welcomes there this done to a tipling-school they go : How pleasant was honest Kate and Sue? believing they should be richly treated, But Neighbours and Friends as am true no lasses ever was (sic.) so cheated: Cheated, cheated, very farely cheated

they were left alone to make their moan And was not, was not that a pity?

The innocent Lasses fair and gay

concluded the Men was (sic.) kind and free Because they passed the time away

a plenty of cakes and ale they see;
For sider and mead they then did call
and whatever else the House afforded
But Susan was forc'd to pay for all

out of the money she had hoarded
Hoarded, hoarded, money she had hoarded
it made her sing a doleful Ditty
And so did the rest with grief opprest

and was not that, was not that a pity?

In compliments they did not stand

nor did they admire their charming features