Faire fall all good Tokens.
OR,
A pleasant new Song not common to be had,
Which will teach you to know good tokens from bad.
To a pleasant new tune.
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TO you that have bad tokens,
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this matter I indight,
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Yet nothing shall be spoken,
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that shall your minds afright:
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Be silent therefore and stand still,
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marke what proceedeth from my Quill:
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I speake of tokens good and ill,
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and such as are not right.
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But first Ile have you understand,
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before that I doe passe,
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That there are many tokens
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which are not made of brasse,
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It is a token of my love,
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that I to you this matter move;
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For many tokens bad doe proove,
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we see in every place.
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Yet by all signes and tokens,
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as I may judge or thinke,
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The man that hath lost both his eyes,
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he cannot chuse but winke;
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But some will winke when they may see,
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but that is nothing unto me:
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Some shut their eyes to have a fee,
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which are in love with chinke.
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He that hath gaind much silver,
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and doth possesse much gold,
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Its a token that he shall be rich,
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if he his substance hold:
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But he that hath but little store,
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and spendeth all and something more,
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Its a token that he shall dye poore,
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to sayt you may be bold.
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He that is a very foole,
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and wisedome doth despise,
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Its a token that he shall be old
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if he live till he be wise:
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And he that hath great store of wit,
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and maketh no right use of it,
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Its atoken that he is unfit
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in honour to arise.
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But this is a bad token,
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marke well what I shall say:
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When a young man hath a handsome wife
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and lets her run astray,
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It is a token she will be naught,
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and quickly unto lewdnesse brought,
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If that she be no better taught,
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sheell bring him to decay.
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The second part, To the same tune.
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HEe that hath a fiery nose,
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which lookes like Claret red;
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Its a token then he doth consume
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in drinke more then in bread:
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For if his nose be fiery hot,
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its a token that he loves the pot:
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He hates small drinke and loves it not,
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he hath not so beene fed.
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Then faire fall all good tokens,
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now it comes into mind:
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Marke which way fits the Wether-cocke,
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and that way blowes the wind:
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Marke which way rowles a Wantons eye,
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and something you may see there by;
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Or if you please then you may trie,
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and so the truth may finde.
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He that hath livd in wickednesse,
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and doth in vice remaine,
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It is a token he hath no care
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to free his soule from paine:
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When Conscience doth on Crutches creepe
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its a token Truth is lulld asleepe,
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Which makes poore men in dangers deepe
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to call and cry in vaine.
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But this is a token of a truth,
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which doth betoken ill:
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An angry wife will worke much woe,
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but shee will have her will:
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For if she chance to bend her browe,
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or seeme to looke I know not how
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Its a token she will scold I vow,
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her tongue will not lye still.
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But this is a true token,
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then marke my word aright:
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When Sol is setting in the West
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the world will lose her light.
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So when an old mans head growes gray,
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he may thinke on his dying day:
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For to the grave he must away
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and bid the world good night.
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He that hath a wandring eye,
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and loves lewd women deare,
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Its a token that heele prove a knave:
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But Ile tell you in your eare
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For sure you never saw the like
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a Souldier loves to tosse a pike:
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The Tapster drawes but dares not strike
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which doth betoken feare.
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Then faire fall all good tokens
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and well fare a good heart:
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For by all signes and tokens
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tis time for to depart:
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And now its time to end my song
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I hope I have done no man wrong:
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For he that cannot rule his tongue
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shall feele a greater smart.
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