Ten miles unto a market I run to meet a miser; My dainty Dals, my Doxies, I pay for what I call for, And so perforce it must be ; If any give me lodging, A courteous knave they find me ; If a gentry coe be coming, Then straight (it is our fashion) My doublet-sleeve hangs empty; Still do I cry, &c. If a coach I hear be rumbling, With a seeming bursten belly, In winter-time stark naked I come into some city; Then every man that spare them can Still do I cry, &c. If from out the Low-country My dog in a string doth lead me, With switches sometimes stand I "Come buy, come buy, a horn-book! In Paul's church by a pillar Sometimes you see me stand, Sir, With a writ that shows what care and woes Still do I cry, &c. Now blame me not for boasting Bestow one small denire, Sir;" A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT FOR SHREWS. WHO marrieth a wife upon a Monday, And she mend not, the divil take her a' Saturday: LINES ON A PRINTING OFFICE, THE world's a printing-house. Our words, our thoughts, Our deeds, are characters of several sizes. Each soul is a compos'tor, of whose faults The Levites are correctors; Heaven revises. Death is the common press; from whence being driven, THE MAY-POLE. COME, lasses and lads, take leave of your dads, And away to the may-pole hie; For every he has got him a she, And the minstrel's standing by; For Willie has gotten his Jill, Jig it up and down. "Strike up," says Wat. "Agreed," says Kate, "And I prithee, fiddler, play.' "Content," says Hodge, and so says Madge, Then every man did put His hat off to his lass, And every girl did curchy, Curchy, curchy on the grass. "Begin," says Hal. "Aye, aye," says Mall, Then every man began To foot it round about; And every girl did jet it, Jet it, jet it, in and out. "You're out," says Dick. ""Tis a lie," says Nick; "The fiddler played it false." ""Tis true," says Hugh, and so says Sue, And so says nimble Alice. The fiddler then began To play the tune again; And every girl did trip it, trip it, Trip it to the men. "Let's kiss," says Jane.1 And so says every she. "Content," says Nan, "How many?" says Batt. "Why three," says Matt, "For that's a maiden's fee." But they, instead of three, Did give them half a score; And they in kindness gave 'em, gave 'em, Gave 'em as many more. Then after an hour they went to a bower, And kisses, too ;-until they were due, The girls did then begin To quarrel with the men ; And bid 'em take their kisses back, Yet there they sate, until it was late, With singing and playing, without any paying, From morning unto night. They told the fiddler then They'd pay him for his play; And each a two-pence, two-pence, Gave him, and went away. "Good night," says Harry; "Good night," says Mary; "Good night," says Dolly to John; "Good night," says Sue; Good night," says Hugh; "Good night," says every one. Some walked, and some did run, Some loitered on the way; And bound themselves with love-knots, love-knots, THERE WAS AN OLD MAN CAME OVER THE LEA. THERE was an old man came over the Lea; He came over the Lea, A-courting to me, With his grey beard newly shaven. My mother she bid me open the door : I opened the door, And he fell on the floor. 1 Some copies say "Pan," and this reading has not been without its defender. I can hardly suppose "Pan' to be right but surely it ought to be a male name of some sort-probably "Dan.” My mother she bid me set him a stool: And he looked like a fool. My mother she bid me give him some beer: And he thought it good cheer. My mother she bid me cut him some bread: And I threw't at his head. My mother she bid me light him to bed: And wished he were dead. My mother she bid me tell him to rise: And he opened his eyes. My mother she bid me take him to church: And left him in the lurch, With his grey beard newly shaven. THE NEW LITANY. FROM an extempore prayer and a godly ditty, From the power of a country committee, Libera nos, Domine. From the Turk, the Pope, and the Scottish nation, And from an old Protestant, quite out of fashion, From meddling with those that are out of our reaches, From an ignoramus that writes, and a woman that teaches, From the doctrine of deposing of a king, Libera nos, Domine. i The Directory for the Public Worship of God, ordered by the Assembly of Divines at Westminster in 1644, to supersede the Book of Common Prayer. |