THE POETASTER'S PROCESSES.

1500.

MY daughter wente to the Annexe scule,

(Mayds are brighte as the bloome of Maye,)

I trowe her mother has rocked a fule,

(The wynd blows bleake on the wintrye daye.)

Her voice is hye and her haire flies free,

(Sweete is the sounde of the throstle's song,)

Her gowne from Parys over the sea.

(The waye is hard and the waye is long.)

Shee plays att bat and shee plays att balle,

(The wynds toss lightlye the leaves soe browne.)

Shee's learned the meanyng of "see" and "calle."

(The luck may smile and the luck may frowne.)

Her crewe, shee says, is faire to see,

(For learnyng, one is ne'er too olde,)

They traine to rowe with Welleslee.

(My love's longe haire shines brighte as golde.)

Of smarte instructors and tutors proude,

(Pride aye goeth before a falle,)

Shee says shee's mashed the entire crowde.

(The sunne shines brighte on the castle wall.)

Shee's learned the slange and shee's learned "the swing,"

(The bird swings lowe on the hawthorne boughe,)

Shee talks of Bancroft and Ernst and Tyng.

(Joy is followed aye by woe.)

My hope is gone, my pride is o'er,

(The olde cock learns as the younge one crows,)

I ne'er sholde knowe my daughter more.

(The daye is colde when the north wynd blows.)