William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Elizabethan Verse. 1907.
Fortunati NimiumThomas Campion (15671620)
J
But loving live, and merry still;
Do their week-day’s work, and pray
Devoutly on the holy day;
Skip and trip it on the green,
And help to choose the Summer Queen;
Lash out at a country feast
Their silver penny with the best.
And tell at large a winter tale;
Climb up to the apple loft,
And turn the crabs till they be soft.
Tib is all the father’s joy,
And little Tom the mother’s boy;
All their pleasure is Content;
And care, to pay their yearly rent.
And deck her windows with green boughs,
She can wreaths and tutties make,
And trim with plums a bridal cake.
Jack knows what brings gain or loss;
And his long flail can stoutly toss;
Makes the hedge which others break,
And ever thinks what he doth speak.
That study only strange delights;
Though you scorn the home-spun gray
And revel in your rich array;
Though your tongues dissemble deep,
And can your heads from danger keep;
Yet, for all your pomp and train,
Securer lives the silly swain!