A New Ballad,
CALLED
The Husbandmans Delight:
OR,
A SONG in the praise of STRAW.
Tune of, Ladies of London, etc. This may be printed, R. P
|
[?]e all ye Farmers, and listen a while,
|
[?] sing you a Song to delight you;
|
[?]ect it self, it will make you smile,
|
[?] buy my Song twill invite yo[u]:
|
[?] you a verse in praise of Good straw,
|
[?]e that will set you on laughing
|
Tratise you find out a flaw,
|
[?]e you my Ballads for nothing.
|
Straw it bears Wheat that fair delicate Grain,
|
and Cods of all sorts let me tell yea,
|
Such ones as Bean Cods, and Pease Cods I mean,
|
fit for a fair Lady's Belly;
|
For they're accounted excellent food,
|
by women much lov'd by relation,
|
Why should not straw then be counted as good,
|
as any Hey, ho in the Nation.
|
Straw bears the Barley that yeilds us the Ale
|
we drink, while we beg or can borrow,
|
Throw't in at mouth, and Cast out at the Tale,
|
till we have quite drowned our sorrow;
|
It lengthens our lives and lightens our days
|
and it is our Healths preservation;
|
Why should not straw then have far greater praise,
|
then any Hey, ho in the Nation.
|
Straw it is good for to fother a Oxe,
|
or litter a horse in the Stable;
|
Some in their shooes were it insteed of socks,
|
who to buy better are not able,
|
For many beasts 'tis excellent food,
|
and for many other occasion,
|
Why should not straw then be recond as good,
|
as any Hey, ho in the Nation.
|
Straw is the Subject upon which we treat,
|
it bears a most delicate berry,
|
Plump 'tis, and pleasant, and full of Good meat,
|
and Colour'd as Red as a Cherry,
|
Put into Cream 'tis Curious food,
|
and much at great dinners in fashion;
|
Why should not straw then be rechon'd as Good,
|
as any Hey, ho in the Nation.
|
Straw it will serve our Tobacco to light,
|
and Straw it will rub down our Horses,
|
Straw it will serve us when wee go to sh---t,
|
most neatly to wipe clean our Arses,
|
The praise of Good Straw cannot be exprest,
|
'tis that alwaies singes our Bacon
|
Why should not straw be as much in request,
|
as any Hey, ho in the Nation.
|
Straw is a thing by no means we could want,
|
It stands us in many a [st]eed Sir,
|
A Pritty Wench we may tumble upon't,
|
as well as upon a down bed Sir,
|
Many a Cup of Good Ale has been brew'd,
|
with Straw too upon an occasion,
|
Then for the future letts think straw as Good,
|
as any Hey, ho in the Nation.
|
|
|
|
|
|