A pleasant Countrey new Ditty:
Merrily shewing how
To drive the cold Winter away.
To the tune of, When Phoebus did rest, etc.
|
ALl hayle to the dayes,
|
That merite more praise,
|
then all the rest of the yeare:
|
And welcome the nights,
|
That double delights,
|
as well the poore as the Peere:
|
Good fortune attend,
|
Each merry mans friend,
|
that doth but the best that he may:
|
Forgetting old wrongs,
|
With Carrols and Songs,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
Let misery packe,
|
With a whip at his backe,
|
to the deep Tantalian flood:
|
In the Lethe profound,
|
Let envy be drownd,
|
that pines at another mans good:
|
Let sorrowes expence,
|
Be banded from hence,
|
all payments of griefe delay:
|
And wholly consort,
|
With mirth and with sport,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
Tis ill for a mind,
|
To anger inclind,
|
to ruminate injuries now:
|
If wrath be to seeke,
|
Do not let her thy cheeke,
|
nor yet inhabite thy brow.
|
Crosse out of those bookes,
|
Malevolent lookes,
|
both beauty and youthes decay:
|
And spend the long night,
|
In honest delight,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
The Court in all state,
|
Now opens her gate,
|
and bids a free welcome to most:
|
The City likewise,
|
Though somewhat precise,
|
doth willingly part with her cost:
|
And yet by report,
|
From City and Court,
|
the Countrey gets the day:
|
More Liquor is spent,
|
And better content,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
The Gentry there,
|
For cost do not spare,
|
the Yeomanry fast in Lent:
|
The Farmers and such,
|
Thinke nothing too much,
|
if they keep but to pay their Rent:
|
The poorest of all,
|
Do merrily call,
|
want, beares but a little sway:
|
For a Song or a tale,
|
Ore a Pot of good Ale,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
Thus none will allow,
|
Of solitude now,
|
but merrily greets the time:
|
To make it appeare,
|
Of all the whole yeare,
|
that this is accounted the Prime,
|
December is seene,
|
Appareld in greene,
|
and January fresh as May:
|
Comes dancing along,
|
With a Cup and a Song,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
|
|
|
|
The second part. To the same tune.
|
THis time of the yeare,
|
Is spent in good Cheare,
|
kind neighbours together meet:
|
To sit by the fire,
|
With friendly desire,
|
each other in love to greet:
|
Old grudges forgot,
|
Are put in the Pot,
|
all sorrowes aside they lay:
|
The old and the yong,
|
Doth Caroll his Song,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
Sisley and Nanny,
|
More jocund then any,
|
as blithe as the Month of June:
|
Do Caroll and sing,
|
Like birds of the Spring,
|
no Nightingale sweeter in tune:
|
To bring in content,
|
When Summer is spent,
|
in pleasant delight and play:
|
With mirth and good cheere,
|
To end the old yeere,
|
and drive the cold winter away.
|
The Shepheard, the Swaine,
|
Do highly disdaine,
|
to waste out his time in care:
|
And Clim of the Clough,
|
Hath plenty enough,
|
if but a penny he spare:
|
To spend at the night,
|
In joy and delight;
|
now after his labours all day:
|
For better then Lands,
|
Is helpe of his hands,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
To Maske and to Mum,
|
Kind neighbours will come,
|
with Wassels of not browne Ale;
|
To drinke and carouse,
|
To all in this house,
|
as merry as Bucks in the pale:
|
Where Cake, Bread and Cheese,
|
Is brought for your fees,
|
to make you the longer stay:
|
At the fire to warme,
|
Will do you no harme,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
When Christmas tide,
|
Comes in like a Bride,
|
with Holly and Juy clad:
|
Twelve dayes in the yeare,
|
Much mirth and good cheare,
|
in every houshold is had:
|
The Countrey guise,
|
Is then to devise,
|
some gambole of Christmas play:
|
Whereas the yong men,
|
Do best that they can,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
When white-bearded Frost,
|
Hath threatned his worst,
|
and fallen from Branch & Bryer:
|
Then time away cals,
|
From Husbandry Hals,
|
& from the good Countrymans fire:
|
Together to go,
|
To Plow and to sow,
|
to get us both food and array:
|
And thus with content,
|
The time we have spent,
|
to drive the cold winter away.
|
|
|
|
|