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    1. 769 ##

769. THE SPELL.

Holy water come and bring;
Cast in salt, for seasoning:
Set the brush for sprinkling:
Sacred spittle bring ye hither;
Meal and it now mix together,
And a little oil to either.
Give the tapers here their light,
Ring the saints'-bell, to affright
Far from hence the evil sprite.

    1. 770 ##

770. HIS WISH TO PRIVACY.

Give me a cell
To dwell,
Where no foot hath
A path:
There will I spend
And end
My wearied years
In tears.

    1. 771 ##

771. A GOOD HUSBAND.

A Master of a house, as I have read,
Must be the first man up, and last in bed.
With the sun rising he must walk his grounds;
See this, view that, and all the other bounds:
Shut every gate; mend every hedge that's torn,
Either with old, or plant therein new thorn;
Tread o'er his glebe, but with such care, that where
He sets his foot, he leaves rich compost there.