Popular Music Of The Olden Time Vol 2

Ancient Songs, Ballads, & Dance Tunes, Sheet Music & Lyrics - online book

	THE COMMONWEALTH.                                                 465
	CI ristmas beef and bread is turn'd into stones, Into stones and silken rags; And Lady Money sleeps and makes moans, And makes moans in misers' bags: Houses where pleasures once did abound, Nought but a dog and a shepherd is found, Welladay! Places where Christmas revels did keep, • N( w are become habitations for sheep. Welladay, welladay, Welladay, where should I stay ? Pan, the shepherd's god, doth deface, Doth deface Lady Ceres' crown, Aid the tillage doth go to decay, To decay in every town; Landlords their rents so highly enhance, Tlat Pierce, the ploughman, barefoot may Welladay!                             [dance; Farmers, that Christmas would still entertain, Sc irce have wherewith themselves to maintain. Welladay, &c. Come to the countryman, he will protest, Will protest, and of bull-beef boast; Ai d for the citizen he is so hot, Is so hot, he will burn the roast. Tl e courtier, sure good deeds will not scorn, N( r will he see poor Christmas forlorn ?— Welladay! Sii ce none of these good deeds will do, CI ristmas had best turn courtier too. Welladay, &c. Prde and luxury they do devour, Do devour housekeeping quite; Aid soon beggary they do beget, Do beget in many a knight. Madam, forsooth, in her coach must wheel,	Although she wear her hose out at heel, Welladay! And on her back wear that for a weed, Which me and all my fellows would feed. Welladay, &c. Since pride came up with the yellow starch, Yellow starch, poor folks do want, And nothing the rich men will to them give, To them give, but do them taunt; For Charity from the country is fled, And in her place hath nought left but need; Welladay! And corn is grown to so high a price, It makes poor men cry with weeping eyes. Welladay, &c. Briefly for to end, here I do find, I do find so great vacation, That most great houses seem to attain To attain a strong purgation : [shew'd, Where purging pills such effects they have That forth of doors they their owners have Welladay!                              [spued; And where'er Christmas comes by, and calls, Nought now but solitary and naked walls. Welladay, &c. Philemon's cottage was turn'd into gold, Into gold, for harbouring Jove: Rich men their houses up for to keep, For to keep, might their greatness move ; But in the city, they say, they do live, Where gold by handfulls away they do give:— I'll away, And thither, therefore, I purpose to pa3s, Hoping at London to find the golden ass. I'll'away, I'll away, I'll away, for here's no stay.