|
|
||
|
The Cobblers' Catch
Down a down, hey down a down, Hey derry, derry down a down,
Ho, well done, to me let come, Ring compass, gentle joy.
Trowl the bowl, the nut-brown bowl, And here, kind mate, to thee,
Let's sing a dirge for Saint Hugh's soul, And down it merrily.
Cold's the wind, and wet's the rain, Saint Hugh be our good speed,
1'11 is the weather that bringeth no gain, Nor helpeth good hearts in need. |
||
|
|
||
|
THE COBBLERS' CATCH
By Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
Come sit we by the fireside, And roundly drink we here ;
Till that we see our cheeks ale-dyed And noses tann'd with beer. |
||
|
|
||
|
131 |
||
|
|
||