Christmas Lamentation,
For the losse of his Acquaintance, showing how he is forst to leave the
Country, and come to London. To the tune of, Now the Spring is come.
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CHristmas is my name, farre have I gone,
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Have I gone, have I gone, have I gone,
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without regard.
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Whereas great men by flockes there be flowne,
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There be flown, there be flown, there be flowne,
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to London-ward.
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Where they in pomp, and pleasure doe waste,
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That which Christmas was wonted to feast,
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Welladay.
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Houses where musicke was wont for to ring,
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Nothing but Batts and Howlets doe sing,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where should I stay.
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Christmas beefe and bread, is turnd into stones,
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Into stones, into stones, into stones,
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and silken rags.
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And Ladie money sleepes, and makes moanes,
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And makes moanes, and makes moanes, and, etc.
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in Misers Bags.
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Houses where pleasures once did abound,
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Nought but a Dogge and a Shepheard is found,
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Welladay.
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Places where Christmas Revells did keepe,
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Is now become habitations for sheepe,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where should I stay.
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Pan the Shepeards god doth deface,
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Doth deface, doth deface, doth deface,
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Lady Ceres crowne.
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And tillage that doth goe to decay,
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To decay, to decay, to decay,
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in every Towne.
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Land-lords their rents so highly inhance,
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That Pierce the Plow-man, bare foot may dance,
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Welladay.
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And Farmers that Christmas would entertain,
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Have scarce where with themselves to maintain,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where should I stay.
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Come to the Country man, he will protest,
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Will protest, will protest, will protest,
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and of Bull Beefe lost.
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And for the Citizen hee is so hot,
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Is so hot, is so hot, is so hot,
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he will burne the rost.
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The Courtier he good deeds will not scorne,
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Nor will he see poore Christmas forlorne,
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Welladay.
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Since none of these good deeds will doe,
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Christmas had best turne Courtier too,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where should I stay.
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The second part. To the same Tune
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PRide and luxury they doe devoure,
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Doe devoure, doe devoure, doe devoure,
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house-keeping quite.
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And beggery that doth beget,
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Doth beget, doth beget, doth beget,
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in many a Knight.
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Madam forsooth in her Coach she must wheell,
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Although she weare her hose out at heele,
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Welladay.
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And on her backe weare that for a weed,
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Which me and all my fellowes would feed,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where should I stay.
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Since pride that came up with yellow starch,
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Yellow starch, yellow starch, yellow starch,
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poore folkes doe want.
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And nothing the rich men will to them give,
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To them give, to them give, to them give,
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but doe them taunt.
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For charity from the Country is fled,
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And in her place hath left nought but need,
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Welladay.
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And Corne is growne to so high a price,
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It makes poore men cry with weeping eyes,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where should I stay.
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Briefely for to end, here I doe find,
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I doe find, I doe find, I doe find,
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so great vacation,
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That most great houses seeme to attaine
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To attaine, to attaine, to attaine.
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a strong purgation.
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Where purging pills, such effects they have shewed,
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That forth of doores their owners have spewed,
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Welladay.
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And where as Christmas comes by and calls,
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Nought but solitary and naked walls,
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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Welladay.
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where shall I stay.
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Phelomes cottage was turnd into gold,
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Into gold, into gold, into gold,
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for harboring Jove,
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Rich men their houses for to keepe,
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For to keepe, for to keepe, for to keepe,
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might their greatnesse move.
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But in the City they say they doe live,
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Where gold by handfulls away they doe give,
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Ile away.
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And thither therefore I purpose to passe,
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Hoping at London to finde the golden Asse,
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Ile away.
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Ile away.
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Ile away.
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for heres no stay.
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