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My silken suits do now decay,
My cups of gold are vanished, And all my friends do wear away,
As I from them were banished, My silver cups are turn’d to earth,
I'm jeered by every clown; I was a better man by birth,
Till fortune cast me down.
I'm out of frame, and temper too,
Though I'm somewhat chearful,
If that you be not careful :
Least they betray your heart,
To act a mad man's part.
Declare this to each mother's son,
Unto each honest lad;
Lest they like me grow, mad:
Let reason rule affection, Itt ant ! So shalt thou never do amissis .ow you
By reason's good direetion. w og muude los
I have no more to say to you,
My keepers now do chide me,
God knows what will betide me :
My time in Bedlam spending,
But do not know your ending.
[From a very rare Collection of Songs, called—Hunting,
Hawking, Dancing, &c. ; set to music by Bennet, Piers, and Ravenscroft, 4to.]
By the moon we sport and play,
With the night begins our day;
Trip it, little Urchins all,
Two by two, and three by three,
THE ELVES DANCE.
[From the same Collection.]
you haunt our hallow'd green? None but fairies here are seen.
Down and sleep,
Wake and weep, Pinch him black, and pinch him blue, That seeks to steal a lover true. When you come to hear us sing, Or to tread our fairy ring, Pinch him black, and pinch him blue, O thus our nails shall handle you.
"OLD CHRISTMAS RETURNED,
may see (if they be not blind) how much they
Who feasts the poor, a true reward shall find,
To the tune of—The Delights of the Bottle.
All you that to feasting and mirth are inclin’d, ,
A long time together he hath been forgot,
Such miserly sneaking in England hath been,
The times were ne'er good since Old Christmas was fled,
shall have for the ease of your grief, Plum-pudding, goose, capon, minc'd pies, and roast-beef.
But now you
The butler and baker, they now may be glad,
The holly and ivy about the walls wind,
The cooks shall be busied by day and by night,