Shrowsbury for me:
BEING,
A Song in praise of that Famous Town,
Which hath throughout all England gain'd renown.
In Praise thereof, let everyone agree,
And say with one accord, Shrowsbury for me.
To a delightful New Tune: or, Shrowsbury for me.
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COme listen you Gallants
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of Shrowsbury fair Town,
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For that is the place,
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that hath gained renown:
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To set forth its praises,
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we all will agree:
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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The merry Town of Shrowsbury,
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God bless it still,
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For it stands most gallantly
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upon a high Hill:
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It standeth most bravely,
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for all men to see,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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There's six Parish Churches
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all in that fair Town,
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And six gallant Ministers,
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in their black Gowns:
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There's twice a week Market,
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for all men to see,
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And every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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The second Part, to the same Tune.
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O The brave bells of Shrowsbury,
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merrily doth ring,
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And the gallant young-men & Maid,
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sweetly they sing:
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There runs a fair River,
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for all men to see,
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And every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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O the Pinacle of Shrowsbury,
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shews itself still,
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For it's mounted gallantly
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on a high Hill:
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It standeth most bravely
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in view for to see,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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The Trades-men of Shrowsbury
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drive a fine Trade,
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Their wives go most gallant,
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and bravely aray'd,
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And like loving couples
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they always agree,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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The Sea-men went to Maid-stone,
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the Jayl for to see,
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And from thence to London,
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that noble City:
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Then home they returned,
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by one, two, and three,
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And every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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The young-men of Shrowsbury,
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are jovial Blades,
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When they are in company,
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with pretty Maids.
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They court them compleatly,
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with complements free,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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There's Fishing and Fowling
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at Shrowsbury Town,
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There's shooting and bowling,
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both up hill and down:
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With brave recreations
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for every degree,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me,
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There is no man in Shrowsbury
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needs for to want,
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For all things are plenty,
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and nothing is scant:
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What e're you can wish for,
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for all men is free,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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Then who would not gladly,
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live in this brave Town,
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Which flourishes gallantly,
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with high Renown:
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The like of it is not
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in England to see,
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Then every man to his mind,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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Then brave Lads of Shrowsbury,
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let us be merry,
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Carrouse it most freely,
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in white-wine and Sherry:
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Cast up your Caps bravely,
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for all men to see,
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And still cry with one accord,
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Shrowsbury for me.
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