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Anonymous. A.D. 1666. From a black-letter copy among the “Roxburgh Songs and Ballads." Ritson says that this song is sung to an olden tune, entitled

" I'll nere

be drunk Mr. Chappell, in his excellent and valuable collection of the “Popular Music of the Olden Time,” now (1856) in course of publication, confirms this statement; and prints the tune to the words of "old Sir Simon the King."

againe."

WHEN this old cap was new

'Tis since two hundred year-
No malice then we knew,

But all things plenty were:
All friendship now decays,

(Believe me, this is true,)
Which was not in those days,

When this old cap was new.

The nobles of our land

Were much delighted then
To have at their command

A crew of lusty men ;
Which by their coats were known

Of tawney, red, or blue,
With crests on their sleeves shown,

When this old cap was new.

Now pride hath banish'd all,

Unto our land's reproach, When he whose means are small

Maintains both horse and coach; Instead of an hundred men,

The coach allows but two: This was not thought on then,

When this old cap was new.

Good hospitality

Was cherish'd then of many; Now poor men starve and die,

And are not help'd by any ; For charity waxeth cold,

And love is found in few : This was not in time of old,

When this old cap was new.

Where'er you travell’d then,

You might meet on the way Brave knights and gentlemen,

Clad in their country grey, That courteous would appear,

And' kindly welcome you; No Puritans then were,

When this old cap was new.

Our ladies in those days

In civil habit went;
Broad-cloth was then worth praise,
And
gave

the best content: French fashions then were scorn'd,

Fond fangles then none knew; Then modesty women adorn'd,

When this old cap was new.

A man might then behold

At Christmas in each hall, Good fire's to curb the cold,

And meat for great and small: The neighbours friendly bidden,

And all had welcome true; The

poor from the gates not chidden. When this old cap was new.

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We took not such delight

In cups of silver fine;
None under the degree of knight

In plate drank beer or wine:
Now each mechanical man

Hath a cupboard of plate for show, Which was a rare thing then,

When this old cap was new. No captain then caroused,

Nor spent poor soldiers' pay;
They were not so abused,

As they are at this day :
Of seven days they make eight,

To keep them from their due:
Poor soldiers had their right,

When this old cap was new

Which made them forward still

To go, although not prest; And going with good will,

Their fortunes were the best: Our English then in fight

Did foreign foes subdue, And forced them all to flight,

When this old cap was new.

God save our gracious king,

And send him long to live! Lord, mischief on them bring

That will not their alms give, But seek to rob the poor

Of that which is their due : This was not in time of

yore, When this old cap was new.

WHY SO PALE AND WAN?

Sir JOHN SUCKLING. Sung by Mrs. Cross, in the "Mock Astrologer;" set to music

by Mr. RAMONDON, and also by Dr. ARNE.
Why so pale and wan, fond lover?

Prithee, why so pale ?
Will, when looking well can't move her,

Looking ill prevail ?
Prithee, why so pale ?

Why so dull and mute, young

sinner?
Prithee, why so mute?
Will, when speaking well can't win her,

Saying nothing do't?
Prithee, why so mute?

Quit, quit for shame, this will not move,

This cannot take her;
If of herself she will not love,

Nothing can make her.
The devil take her!

TOBACCO IS AN INDIAN WEED.

Anonymous.
This Indian weed, now wither'd quite,
Though green at noon, cut down at night,

Shews thy decay;
All flesh is hay :

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The pipe, so lily-like and weak,
Does thus thy mortal state bespeak:

Thou art e'en such,
Gone with a touch :

Thus think, and smoke tobacco,

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Then thou behold'st the vanity

Of worldly stuff,
Gone with a puff:

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul defiled with sin;

For then the fire
It does require :

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

And see'st the ashes cast away,
Then to thyself thou mayest say,

That to the dust
Return thou must:

Thus think, and smoke tobacco.

The foregoing is a slightly altered version of an older song. The original was first printed in 1672, in "Two Broadsides against Tobacco," and ran as follows :

The Indian weed wither'd quite,
Green at noon, cut down at night,

Shews thy decay;
All flesh is hay:

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

The pipe that is so lily white
Shews thee to be a mortal wight.

And even such,
Gone with a touch:

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

And when the smoke ascends on high,
Think thou behold'st the vanity

Of worldly stuff,
Gone with a puff:

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

And when the pipe grows foul within,
Think on thy soul defil'd with sin;

And then the fire
It doth require :

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

The ashes that are left behind
May serve to put thee still in mind,

That unto dust
Return thou must,

Thus think, then drink tobacco.

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