The country-mans lamentation for the death of his cow.
A Country Swain of little wit one day,
Did kill his Cow because she went astray:
Whats that to I or you, she was his own,
But now the Ass for his Cow doth moan:
Most piteously methinks he cries in vain,
For now his Cows from hunger free, and pain;
What ails the fool to make so great a stir,
She cannot come to him, he may to her.
To a pleasant Country Tune, called, Colly my Cow.
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LIttle Tom Dogget,
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what dost thou mean,
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To kill thy poor Colly,
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now shes so lean:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly;
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Colly my Cow;
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For Colly will give me
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no more milk now.
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Pruh high, pruh hoe,
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Pruh high, pruh hoe,
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Sing, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,
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Tal dal daw.
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I had better have kept her,
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till fatter she had been,
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For now I confess
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she was a little too lean:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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First in comes the Tanner,
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with his Sword by his side;
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And he bids me five Shillings,
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for my Cows hide:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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Then in comes the Tallow-chandler,
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whose brains were but shallow,
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And he bids me two and Six-pence,
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for my Cows Tallow:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly,
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Colly my Cow,
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For Colly will give me
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no more milk now.
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Pruh high, pruh hoe,
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Pruh high, and pruh hoe,
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Sing, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,
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Tal dal daw.
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Follow your Ambassador
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Cookoow
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THen in comes the Huntsman,
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so early in the morn,
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He bid me a Penny,
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for my Cows horn:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly,
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Colly my Cow:
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For Colly will give me
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no more milk now:
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Pruh high, pruh hoe,
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Pruh high, and pruh hoe,
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Sing, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,
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Tal dal daw.
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Then in comes the Tripe woman,
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so fine and so neat,
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She bid me three half-pence
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for my Cows feet:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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Then in comes the Butcher,
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that nimble-tongud youth,
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Who said she was Carrion,
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but he spoke not the truth:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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This Cow had a skin,
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was as soft as the silk,
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And three times a day,
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my poor Cow would give milk:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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She every year,
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a fine Calf did me bring,
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Which fetcht me a pound
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for it came in the Spring:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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But now I have killd her,
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I cant her recall:
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I will sell my poor Colly,
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Hide, Horns, and all:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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The Butcher shall have her,
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though he gives but a pound:
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And he knows in his heart,
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that my Colly was found:
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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And when he has brought her,
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let him sell all together,
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The flesh for to eat,
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and the hide for Leather.
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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Some say im a Cuckold,
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but ile swear I am none,
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For how can it be,
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now my horns are gone.
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Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.
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