PROLOGUE
To the Right Honourable the
Ld. Visc. Bolingbroke.
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O, I who erst beneath a tree,Sung Bumpkinet and Bowzybee,
And Blouzelind and Marian bright,
In apron blue or apron white,
Now write my sonnets in a Book,
For my good lord Bolingbroke.
As lads and lasses flood around
To hear my boxen haut-boy sound,
Our clerk came posting o'er the green
With doleful tidings of the Queen;
That Queen, he said, to whom we owe
Sweet peace that maketh riches flow;
That Queen who eas'd our tax of late,
Was dead, alas!———and lay in state.
To hear my boxen haut-boy sound,
Our clerk came posting o'er the green
With doleful tidings of the Queen;
That Queen, he said, to whom we owe
Sweet peace that maketh riches flow;
That Queen who eas'd our tax of late,
Was dead, alas!———and lay in state.
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