The Choosing Of Valentines
It
was
the
merie
moneth
of
Februarie,
When
yong
men,
in
their
iollie
roguerie,
Rose
earelie
in
the
morne
fore
breake
of
daie,
To
seeke
them
valentines
soe
trimme
and
gaie;
With
whom
they
maie
consorte
in
summer
sheene,
And
dance
the
haidegaies
on
our
toune-greene,
As
alas
at
Easter,
or
at
Pentecost,
Perambulate
the
fields
that
flourish
most;
And
goe
to
som
village
abbordring
neere,
To
taste
the
creame
and
cakes
and
such
good
cheere;
Or
see
a
playe
of
strange
moralitie,
Shewen
by
Bachelrie
of
Maningtree.
Where
to,
the
contrie
franklins
flock-meale
swarme,
And
Jhon
and
Jone
com
marching
arme
in
arme.
Euen
on
the
hallowes
of
that
blessed
Saint
That
doeth
true
louers
with
those
ioyes
acquaint,
I
went,
poore
pilgrime,
to
my
ladies
shrine,
To
see
if
she
would
be
my
valentine;
But
woe,
alass,
she
was
not
to
be
found,
For
she
was
shifted
to
an
upper
ground:
Good
Justice
Dudgeon-haft,
and
crab-tree
face,
With
bills
and
staues
had
scar'd
hir
from
the
place;
And
now
she
was
compel'd,
for
Sanctuarie,
To
flye
unto
a
house
of
venerie.
Thither
went
I,
and
bouldlie
made
enquire
