Joseph Woodfall Ebsworth.

Merry drollery compleat, being jovial poems, merry songs, &c. online

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And I know not for what,
The woman must have, or be sick.

There's Item set down,

For a loose-bodied Gown,
In her longing, you must not deceive her ;

For a Bodkin, a Ring,

Or the other fine thing,

B 4 For

24 Merry Drollerie,

For a Whisk, a scarf, or a Beaver, [.]

Deliver'd and well,

Who is't cannot tell,
Thus while the Childe lies at the Nipple,

There's Item for wine,

And Gossips so fine,
And Sugar to sweeten their Tipple :

There's Item I hope,

For water and sope,
There's Item for Fire and Candle,

For better for worse,

There's Item for Nurse,
The Babe to dress and to dandle.

When swadled in lap,

There's Item for Pap,
And Item for Pot, Pan, and Ladle ;

A Corral with Bells,

Which custom compells,
And Item ten Groats for a Cradle ;

With twenty odd knacks,

Which the little one lacks,
And thus doth thy pleasure bewray thee :

But this is the sport,

In Country and Court,
Then let not these pastimes betray thee.


Complete. 25

The Fashions.

THe Turk in Linnen wraps his head,
The Persian he's in Lawn too ;
The Rush with sable furs his Cap,
And change will not be drawn to ;
The Spaniard constant to his block,
The French inconstant ever,
But of all the Felts that may be felt
Give me the English Beaver.

The German loves the Cony-Wool,

The Irish man his shag too ;

Some love the rough, and some the smooth ; [delete.]

The Welsh his Monmouth use to Wear

And of the same will brag too ;

Some loves the rough, and some the smooth,

Some great and others small things :

But O the liquorish English man

He loves to deal in all things.

The Rush drinks quass, Dutch Rubrick beer,

And that is strong and mighty ;

The Brittain he Metheglin quaffs,

The Irish Aqua Vitcz ;

The French affects the Orlian Grape,

The Spaniard takes his Sherry,


26 Merry Dr oiler ie,

The English none of these can shape, ['scape]
But with them all make merry.

The Italian in his High Chippin, [ ner ]

Scotch Lass, and comely Fro too ;

The Spanish Don a French Maddam [Donna,]

He will not fear to go to ;

Nothing so full of hazard, dread,

Nought lives above the Center :

No health, no fashion, wine, nor wench

Your English dare not venter.

On Tobacco.

TObacco that is withered quite
Grown in the morning, cut down at night,
Shews thy decay,
All flesh is hay ;
Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

And when the smoak ascends on high,
Think all thou seest is Vanity

Of earthly stuff,

Blown with a puff;
Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

And when the Pipes be fouPd within,
Behold the soul defiFd with sin,


Complete. 27

To Purge with fire
He doth require ;
Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

As for the ashes left behind,
They fitly serve to put 's in mind,
That unto dust
Return we must ;
Thus think, then drink Tobacco.

The Tinker of Turvey.

THere was a Jovial Tinker
Dwelt in the Town of Turvey,
And he could patch a Kettle well,
Though his humours were but scurvy ;

Still would he sing, tarra ring, tarra ring Tinke,

Room for a Jovial Tinker,

He'll stop one hole and make two,

Is not this a Jovial Tinker ?

He was as good a fellow
As Smug, which mov'd much laughter ;
You'd hardly think how in his drink,
He would beat his wife and daughter ;
Still would he sing, 6%


28 Merry Drollerie,

He walks about the Country,
With Pike-staff, and with Butchet,
Drunk as a Rat, you'd hardly wot
That drinking so he could trudge it ;
Still would he sing, &>c.

There's none of his profession,
That hath such skill in mettle,
For he could mend the frying-pan,
The Skillet or the Kettle ;
Still would he sing, &c.

To toss the Jolly tankard,
The black pot and the pitcher,
No Ale or beer to him was dear,
To make his nose the richer,
Still would he, &>c.

He'd tink betime i' th' morning
Before the break of day,
For drinking dry he was willing,
To the Ale-house he went his way ;
Still would he, &c.

He knockt so roundly at the door,

Which made them all to waken :

Who's there, quoth the maid ? It's I, he said ;

It's the Tinker foul, I'll take him ;

Still would he sing, tarra ring, tarra ring Tinke,


Complete. 29

Room for a Jovial Tinker,

He'll stop one hole, and make two,

Is not this a Jovial Tinker ?


NOw Gentlemen, if you will hear
Strange news, as I shall tell you,
Where ere you go, both far and near,
You may boldly say 'tis true.

When Charing CTQSS was a little boy,
He was sent to Rumford to buy swine ;
His mother made cheese, he drank the whay,
He never lov'd strong beer, Ale, nor wine.

When all the things in England died, [? Kings]
That very year fell such a chance,
That Salisbury plain would on horseback ride,
And Paris Garden carry the news to France.

When all the Laywers they did Plead [Lawyers]

All for love, and nought for gain ;

Then 'twas a Joyful world indeed ;

The blew bore of Dover fetcht apples out of Spain.

When Landlords let their farms cheap,
Because their tenant paid so dear


I lu- m.m in thr Moon nude ('/////

Ami bid the seven slurs to eat good eheur,

NYithont a UtoU't or Com rati-liei

/'.;/.. \ Chun h N.iul \\.i-. m-vei luv ,

Thou was my l.oid Mayor a house tlutrhei,

Wlurh was a wondious si^ht lo sc-e

dul MMIII on !hr Thanh-..
And sworoall ihioves to l>i* just and line ,
The SUUUUMS ,iuil Uavhlls VN*'I^ V honesl nu n.
\u.l IVase -nul l.ii on \ eai it sne

\\hrn r\v'i\ tuau had .< 'jnuM \\iU\
I'h.n t\v'\ v'i ouU oni v- Kl o! i huk-

1 ink ri i M . . i , 1 > VMU 1 .ill '.t i ilv\

Uo ; -led .1 Ti; 1 . in .1 Niu- ( 'ows huU-


M le I hint i - up.

I'lu- lunU r- up.
And now \( is almost day.
Aiul lu* th.u's ,lu*il \\ith .\uotluM m.m . w
I (' tuur (o jyt him ,u\ ,i\


; i

.'/// M .S''///,//rV <>/ tit

S XI' Mil old SollldlCI ol Ilir H ..

\ / \\'ilh MII old moll. ^ . 0,1 Mild .. n .M no.. .
And MII old |. 1 1 in lliil, oiil M! llx dhows,

And MII old cm ol liooi . di.ivvn on \\iMn.iii ho..

.lull \\ilh Mj'jy. o| |o,

And MII old Sotildin ol Mi. MM, . M
And UK- MM. . n ..Id Sonldici

\\'iih .in old swoid . h.n I I wiih Now.,

And Mil old d. );;'< I lo M .n. .iw.iy |hr < low..
\nd Mil old hol:x- n , I . .1 . IK ;..

And .in < *ld ,.i< I. II. i h.ii n. > in. in I n. >

And MII old Soiildn i <>l Mi. < >H. . M
And M.. ( >u. , n , old : .oiildici

\Vilh In . old u. I . in l'.r-hl\ I-. it-lil ,

\\dll. h hr I. . ov. I'd. ..I /..,.,' i hj-Jll

Will) .III old T.l ,|M.| | ni'Vi I WMS M .id,

TIlMl in hr. old llMvds '.I I h n ; .il '.I. .id ,

And MII old ' ...ill, ih i ol Mi. < hi. . n
\nd ill. MM. . n. old : ...nidi, i

\\ ill. hr. old ( .UN, Mild hr. H.inddirr.,

And Mil old h< .id |ih . . lo I , < |) \\.IMM hr. < .11

Willi .in old .hit I r. j-iouii lo vvi.i. I


32 Merry Drollerie,

With a huge Louse, With a great list on his back,
Is able to carry a Pedler and his Pack ;

And an old souldier of the Queens,

And the Queens old souldier.

With an old Quean to lie by his side,

That in old time had been pockifi'd ;

He's now rid to Bohemia to fight with his foes,

And he swears by his Valour he'll have better cloaths,

Or else he'll lose legs, arms, fingers, and toes,

And he'll come again, when no man knows,

And an old souldier of the Queens,

And the Queen's old souldier.

*^Lj Advice to Bachelours

IF thou wilt know how to chuse a shrew,
Come listen unto me,

I'll tell you the signs, and the very very lines
Of Loves Physiognomy.

If her hair be brown, with a flaxen crown,

And grac'd with a nutmeg hue,
Both day and night, she's best for delight,

And her colour everlasting true.

If her forehead be high, with a rolling eye,
And lips that will sweetly melt :


Complete. 3 3

The thing below is better you know,
Although it be oftner felt.

If her hair be red, she'll sport in the bed,
But take heed of the danger though :

For if she carry fire in her upper attire,
What a divel doth she carry below ?

If her hair be yellow, she'll tempt each fellow ;

In the Immanuel Colledge :
For she that doth follow the colour of Apollo,

May be like him in zeal and knowledge.

If she be pale, and a Virgin stale,

Inclin'd to the sickness green :
Some raw fruit give her, to open her liver,

Her stomack, and the thing between.

If her Nose be long, and sharp as her Tongue,

Take heed of a desperate maid :
For she that will swagger with an incurable dagger

With stab and a kissing betray'd.

If her face and her neck have here and there a speck,
Ne'er stick, but straight you go stride her :

For it hath been try'd and never denied,
Such flesh ne'er fails the Rider.

c If

34 Merry Drollerie,

If none of these thy fancy will please,

Go seek thy complexion store,
And take for thy saint a Lady that will paint,

Such beauties thou maist adore.

If beauty do write in her face red and white,
And Cupid his flowers there breed,

It Pleaseth the eye, but the rose will dye,
As soon as it runs to seed.

Fond Love.

COme my delicate bonny sweet Betty,
Let's dally a while in the shade,
Where the Sun by degrees shines through the trees,
And the wind blows through the Glade ;
Where Telons her Lover is graced, [Tellus ?]

And richly adorned with green,
And the amorous boy with her mother did toy,
And the Uncan never was seen ;
There we may enjoy modest pleasure,
As kissing and merry discourse,
And never controul a modest sweet soul,
For love is a thing of great force.

The green grass shall be thy Pillow

To comfort thy spherical head,

And my arms shall enjoin my love so divine,


Complete. 3 5

And the earth shall be thy bed ;

Thy mantle of fairest flowers,

My coat shall thy coverlet be,

And the whistling wind shall sing to our mind,

O dainty sweet Lullaby.

Old Eolus shall be thy Rocker,

With his gentle murmuring noise,

And loves mirtle tree shall thy Canopy be ;

And the birds harmonious voice

Shall bring us into a sweet slumber,

While I in thy bosome do rest,

And give thee such bliss by that, and by

As by poetry can't be exprest.

While thy cherry cheek pleaseth in touching,

And in smelling her oderous breath ;

Her beauty in my sight, and her voice my delight,

Oh my sweets are cast beneath ;

Thus ravished with the contentment

In more than a lover exprest,

And think when I am here, I am in a sphear,

And more than immortally blest.

And thus with my mutual coying

My love doth me sweetly embrace ;

With my hands in her hair, and her fingers so rare,

And her playing with my face,

We reapt the most happy contentment

c 2 That

36 Merry Dr oiler ie,

That ever two Lovers did find ;

What women did see but my Love and me,

Would say, that we use to be kind.

Grinning Honour.

NAY prithee don't fly me, but sit thee down by me,
For I cannot endure the man that's demure,
A pox on your Worships and Sirs ;
Your conjeys and trips,
With your legs and your lips,
Your Madams and Lords,
With such finical words,
With a complement you bring,
Which concerneth no thing
You may keep for the Gown and the furs.
For at the beginning, &<r.

These titles of Honours were at first in the Donours,
And not to the thing unto which they do cling,
If the soul be too narrow that wears them,

No delight can I see

In the thing called degree :

Honest Dick sounds as well

As the name with an L.

And that with titles doth swell,

And sounds like a spell
To affright mortal ears when they hear them ;


Complete. 37

He that wears a brave soul and dares honestly do,
He's a Herald to himself and a God-father too.

Why then should we doat on one with a fools coat on,
Whose Coffers are cram'd, but yet he'll be dam'd
E'er he do a good Act, or a wise one ;

What reason hath he

To be ruler o'er me,

Who's a Lord in a chest :

But his head and his breast

Are as empty and bare,

And but puft up with aire,
And can neither assist nor advise one \

Honour's but Air, and proud flesh but dust is,
It's we Commons make the Lords, as the Clarks

(make the Justice.

But since we must be of a different degree,
Cause most do aspire to be greater and higher
Than the rest of our fellows and brothers :

He that hath such a spirit,

Let him gain 't by his merit,

Spend his brain, wealth, and 's blood

For his Countries good,

And make himself fit

By his Valour and his wit
For things above the reach of all others :

Honour's a prize, and who wins it may wear it,

If not, it's a Bag, and a burthen to bear it.

03 For

38 Merry Dr oiler ie,

For my part let me be but quiet and free,

I'll drink sack and obey, and let great ones bear sway

Who spend .their whole time but in thinking ;

I'll ne'er trouble my pate

With the secrets of State ;

The news books I'll burn all :

And with the diurnall

Light Tobacco, and admit,

That they are so far fit
As to serve good company in drinking :

All the name I desire, is an honest good fellow,
Lets drink good Canary untill we grow mellow.

The Hunting.

A Fox, a fox, up Gallants to the field,
List to the merry cry that sweetnes yields ;

Joves high-bred boy rides mounted on a Tun ;

Selenia makes his lasie Ass to run [Stlenus]

In persuit of the chace,

With which may none compare,

Neither for four miles race,

Nor hunting of the hare.

Joyn Musick to the Cry, that hollow rocks
May eccho forth the hunting of the Fox.

The Fox hath lost the field and left the Town,
And up your barly hill showrs up and down, [scowrs]


Complete. 39

With fear inforc'd, weak Reynold seems to daunt
The courage of the warlike Elephant ;
But hark, the Horns do blow,
And all the huntsmen shout ;
There goes the Game, I know,
But Tickler drives him out ;
Joyn Musick, &c.

Ride, ride, St. George, he's stole into the bush,
Old Swag-pot makes him straight from thence to rush ;
Then creeps into the vine, and there doth earth ;
O heavenly cry, exceeding earthly mirth !
Hark Youland, and Pottle,
Old Gusquin and Rainsbolt,
But hark how Pirn doth Tattle
Now he's got to the hole ;
Joyn Musick, &c.

The Fox quite spent, about the Town he reels,

And now in view he's followed at the heels ;

Then climbs the tree, that climbing was his fall,

And to that fall came in the Huntsmen all :

Then Sug, and soot, swilback,

Cavil, and speckled Dyer,

Toss, swagger, and Spendall

Tug him through dirt and mire ;

Now Joyn our horn and voices all, that hollow rocks
May eccho forth the hunting of the Fox.

04 A

4O Merry Drollerie,

A Song.

AH, ah, come see what's here !
Young -Rufus drawing near,
With his thoughts, and his eyes,
And his elevated cries ;
Take heed how you come near,
For in a rapture his weak stature
Mounts above the Moon ;
And being there, doth stamp and stare,
And swear there is no room
To contain his old brain in the skies,
But he'll go down below,
And he'll know if it be so,
Whether all the wild boyes, [ ? Whither]
Having spent their mad daies,
Goes when such men dies.

But he finds no comfort there,
Back again to the man in the air ;
He catches at the Moon,
And pulls off the shepherds shoone,
And leaves his ten toes bare ;
Now the Youth grows mad,
The Moon-man, that was sad,
Starts up as wild as he,
With frowning angry look.


Complete. 41

Stood kirdling with his hook,

And demands what he might be :

He did reply, I will fly round the Globe ;

Then make way Earth and Sea,

He'll not stay for to Play,

Consent with him importune,

He fears an evil Fortune,

All his delight's abroad.

A Droll.

LEt dogs and divels die ;
Let Wits and Money fly ;
Let the slaves of the earth
Be abortive in their birth [,]

Well or 111 come, what care I ;
For I will roar, I will drink, I will whore,
I spend nought but my own :
Let slaves of the world be suddenly hurl'd,
Or with a whirlwind blown,
In and out, round about, hey boyes, hey :
Let us sing, let us laugh ;
Let us drink, let us quaff;
See the world is sliding,
Here is no abiding,
Our life's but a Hollyday.


42 Merry Drollerie,

The Jealous Husband.

A Young man that's in love with one that's wed,
Which of his sweet heart hath a Jealous head ;
Hath hatched a furious beast,
For Jealousie takes no rest.

It is a mad frenzy that broiles in the brain,
It fumes in the stomack, and filleth the vein :
The handmaids that upon it do wait,
Is fear, suspition, and hate.

The smoak of Tobacco it troubleth the brain,
It makes a man giddy, and quiet again :
If once he cry, stand away, puff,
He taketh all kindness in snuff.

He holds it a scorn the trueness of love,
But woe to the woman that's forced to prove,
At home, and in every place,
She lives in a pitiful case.

If he do but miss her out of his sight,
He rangeth about like a wandring spright :
And though she be within the house,
He hunts her as a Cat doth a Mouse.


Complete. 43

If any be with her, O how his heart akes !
He sickles, he tickles, he trembles, he quakes ;
But if she be all alone,
He sneaks away like a mome.

If she be abroad, and not to be found,
He hunts, and he scents, like a bloud-hound ;
If he her consort doth distaste,
O how the poor fool is aghast !

At feasts, and at meetings, O how he will pry,
He'll wink and nod, and observe her eye ;
His mops and mows he will shape,
Like an old Paris-Garden Ape.

If any do kiss her, or kindly her use,

O how it doth vex him, and make him to muse !

And plague him with such a smart,

As gripeth his very heart.

Perhaps he will flatter, and make excuse,
Dissembling his folly, which might her abuse ;
And seemingly shews himself kind,
When Jealousie sticks in his mind.

I'll tell you his vertues, to hold on my Rime,
No fool is kinder for a fit or a time ;
He flatters, he kisses, he swears,
It is out of love that he bears.


44 Merry Drollery ',

If this be true love, I would have no such ;
I'll rather wish no love than thus over much ;
For thus a fond jealous Elfe
Disquiets his wife and himself.

I wonder what pleasure he findeth thereby,
To find his own torment that hidden may lye,
And frets like a canker in heart,
And breeds his continual smart.

He pouts, he lowrs, he looks like a Cur,
He'll chide, he'll brawl, he'll keep a foul stir,
And swear he will slit her face,
Before he'll endure disgrace.

He ruffles, he shuffles, he frets and fumes,
He Puffs, and snuffs, and sets up his plumes ;
And though the fool have no hurt
He'll call for a Constable blurt.

He fretteth, he swelleth, he spoyleth his diet;
He stormeth, he rageth, he is seldom quiet ;
He wastes away like dross,
When none but himself is his Cross.

He mumbles, and grumbles, poor silly man,
He whineth, he pineth, he looks pale and wan ;
And when he perceives he must die
He cries, out upon Jealousie, fie.


Complete. 45

I'd rather be a Cuckold, than be so possest
With such a foul spirit that never gives rest,
That when the Coxcomb should sleep,
Like a boy, he will play at bopeep.

Besides the great scandal Jealousie bears,
All men will deride him even to his ears,
And boys in the street as he goes
Will point with finger at nose.

He that's a Wittal doth live at more ease,
He knows the worst ; and doth himself please :
But he that's a Cuckold known,
May swear it's no fault of his own.

A wife that's abus'd, if she would not tell,
May work out a charm to fill his night spell,
Much better to please his mind
And serve a fool in his kind.

She is now his equal, his flesh and his mate,
And none but the devil would work their debate :
For being of two made one,
It is fit he should let her alone.

And yet to conclude, though this is a curse,
A woman that's Jealous is twenty times worse :
For she, like a cackling hen,

Will giggle it out to all men.


46 Merry Drollerie,

Womens delight.

THere dwelt a maid in the Cunny-gate,
And she was wondrous fair,
And she would have an old man
Was overgrown with hair;

And ever she cry'd, O turn,
O turn thee unto me,
Thou hast the thing I have not,
A little above the knee.

He bought her a Gown of green,

Became her wondrous well :
And she bought him a long sword

To hang down by his heel ;

And ever she cry'd, &>c.

He bought her a Pair of sheers

To hang by her side :
And she bought him a winding-sheet

Against the day he dy'd ;

And ever she cry'd, 6<r.

He bought her a Gown, a Gown,

Imbroider'd all with gold :
And she gave him a night-cap
To keep him from the cold,

And ever she cry'd, &>c.


Complete. 47

He bought her a Gown, a Gown,

Imbroider'd all with red :
And she gave him a pair of horns
to wear upon his head ;

And ever she cry'd, [O] turn,
O turn thee unto me,
Thou hast the thing I have not
A little above the knee.

The Drunkard.

THe Spring is coming on, and our spirits begin
To return to their places merrily home,
And every man is bound to lay in a good
Brewing of bloud for the year to come.

They are Cowards that make it of clarified whay,
Or drink, with the swine, of the Juice of grains ;
Let me have the rasie Canary to play,
And the sparkling Rhenish to dance in my veins,

Let Dotards go preach, that our lives are but short,
And tell us much wine doth quick death invite :
But we'll be reveng'd before hand, and for \
We'll croud a lives mirth in the space of a night.

Then stand we about with our glasses full crown'd,
Till every thing else to our postures do grow,


48 Merry Drollerie,

Till our cups, and our heads, and the house go round,
And the Sellar become where the Chamber is now.

Come fill us some wine, we'll a sacrifice bring,
This night full of sack to the health of our K

Till we baffle the stars, and the Sun fetch about,
And tipple, and tipple, and tipple, a rout.

Whose first rising raies that is shown from his throne
Shall dash upon faces as red as his own,
And wonder that Mortals can fuddle away
As much wine in a night as he water i' th' day.

In Praise of Chocolate.

DOctors lay by your irkesome books :
And all the petty-fogging Rooks
Leave quacking, and enucleate
The vertues of our Chocolate.

Let th' universall medicine

(Made up of dead-mens bones and skin)

Be henceforth illegitimate,

And yield to soveraign Chocolate.

Let bawdy-baths be us'd no more,
Nor smoaky-stoves, but by the whore


Complete. 49


Of Babylon, since happy fate
Hath blessed us with Chocolate.

Let old Puncieus greaze his shooes
With his mock-Balsome, and abuse
No more the world : but meditate
The excellence of Chocolate.

Let Doctor Trig (who so excells)
No longer trudge to westward wells ;
For though that water expurgate,
It's but the dregs of Chocolate.


Let all the Paracelsian Crew,

Who can extract Christian from Jew,

Or out of Monarchy or state [,]

Break all their Stills for Chocolate. [;]

Tell us no more of weapon-salve,
But rather doom us to a grave,
For sure our wounds will ulcerate
Unless they're washt with Chocolate.

The thriving Saint, that will not come
Within a sack-shops bouzing Room,
(His spirits to exhilerate)
Drinks bowls (at home) of Chocolate.

D His

5O Merry Dr oiler ie,

His spouse, when she (brim-full of sence)
Doth want her due benevolence,
And babes of grace would propagate,
Is alwaies sipping Chocolate.

The roaring Crew of gallant ones,
Whose marrow rots within their bones,
Their bodies quickly regulate,
If once but sous'd in Chocolate.

Young heirs, that have more Land than wit,
When once they do but taste of it,
Will rather spend their whole Estate
Than weaned be from Chocolate.

The nut-brown Lasses of the I,and,
Whom Nature vaiPd in face and hand,
Are quickly beauties of high rate,
By one small draught of Chocolate.

Besides, it saves the moneys lost
Each day in patches, which did cost
Them dear, untill of late
They found this heavenly Chocolate,

Nor need the women longer grieve,
Who spend their Oyl, yet not conceive :
But its a help immediate
If such but lick of Chocolate [.]


Complete. 5 1

Consumptions too (be well assured)
Are no less soon than soundly cur'd
(Excepting such as do relate
Unto the purse) by Chocolate.

Nay more : Its Virtue is so much,
That if a Lady get a touch,
Her grief it will extenuate,
If she but smell of Chocolate.

The feeble man, whom nature ties
To do his Mistris's drudgeries :
O how it will his mind elate,
If she allow him Chocolate.

'Twill make old women young and fresh,
Create new motions of the flesh,
And cause them long for you know what,
If they but taste of Chocolate.

There's ne'er a Common-Council man,

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Online LibraryJoseph Woodfall EbsworthMerry drollery compleat, being jovial poems, merry songs, &c. → online text (page 4 of 20)