For the rights of fair England that broadsword he draws,
    Her king is his leader, her church is his cause,
    His watchword is honour, his pay is renown,—­
    God strike with the gallant that strikes for the crown!

    They may boast of their Fairfax, their Waller, and all
    The roundheaded rebels of Westminster Hall;
    But tell these bold traitors of London’s proud town,
    That the spears of the north have encircled the crown.

    There ’s Derby and Cavendish, dread of their foes;
    There ’s Erin’s high Ormond, and Scotland’s Montrose! 
    Would you match the base Skippon, and Massey, and Brown,
    With the barons of England that fight for the crown?

    Now joy to the crest of the brave cavalier,
    Be his banner unconquer’d, resistless his spear,
    Till in peace and in triumph his toils he may drown,
    In a pledge to fair England, her church, and her crown!

[85] “Rokeby,” canto fifth.

HUNTING SONG.[86]

    Waken, lords and ladies gay,
    On the mountain dawns the day,
    All the jolly chase is here,
    With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear! 
    Hounds are in their couples yelling,
    Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
    Merrily, merrily, mingle they—­
    “Waken, lords and ladies gay.”

    Waken, lords and ladies gay,
    The mist has left the mountain gray,
    Springlets in the dawn are steaming,
    Diamonds on the brake are gleaming: 
    And foresters have busy been
    To track the buck in thicket green;
    Now we come to chant our lay,
    “Waken, lords and ladies gay.”

    Waken, lords and ladies gay,
    To the green-wood haste away;
    We can shew you where he lies,
    Fleet of foot and tall of size;
    We can shew the marks he made
    When ’gainst the oak his antlers fray’d;
    You shall see him brought to bay,
    “Waken, lords and ladies gay.”

    Louder, louder chant the lay,
    Waken, lords and ladies gay! 
    Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,
    Run a course as well as we;
    Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,
    Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk? 
    Think of this, and rise with day,
    Gentle lords and ladies gay.

[86] First published in the continuation of Strutt’s Queenhoohall, 1808, inserted in the Edinburgh Annual Register, of the same year, and set to a Welsh air in Thomson’s Select Melodies, vol. iii., 1817.

OH, SAY NOT, MY LOVE, WITH THAT MORTIFIED AIR.

    Oh, say not, my love, with that mortified air,
      That your spring-time of pleasure is flown;
    Nor bid me to maids that are younger repair,
      For those raptures that still are thine own.