Streams from Helicon Or, Poems On Various Subjects. In Three Parts. By Alexander Pennecuik ... The Second Edition. Enter'd in Stationer's Hall |
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 | Streams from Helicon |  |
Beggars SONG out of Beaumont and Fletchers Plays.
“Cast our Caps and Care away,“This is Beggars Holy-Day;
“At the Wedding of our King,
“Thus we ever dance and sing.
“In the World look out, and see;
“Where's so happy a Prince as he,
“Where's the Nation lives so free,
“And so Merry as do we?
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“Here at Liberty we are,
“And enjoy our Ease and Rest:
“To the Fields we are not prest,
“Nor are call'd unto the Town,
“To be troubled with the Gown.
“Hang the Government, we cry,
“Their Officers we do defy;
“Let Magistrates on Gibbets dy.
“When the Subsidy's encreast,
“We are not a Penny Cest:
“Nor will any go to Law,
“With a Beggar for a Straw.
“All which Happiness he brags,
“He doth owe unto his Rags.
“Then a Begging we will go,
“And a Begging we will go, &c.
In the midst of their Mirth, Dunnawassels drew nigh
King Scrape rose up with the Hue, and the Cry:
King Scrape rose up with the Hue, and the Cry:
Purveyors to your Crutches; wooden Legs, wry Faces,
To your Postures; learn your halting Paces.
Red-botch rid you, make false Bellies, ye Whores,
Slover Chops to your Stilts, lay open your Sores;
Beeds-Men tye your Tackling, haste, the Lour bring
To Litter the Cubs, and Bouse the King.
To your Postures; learn your halting Paces.
Red-botch rid you, make false Bellies, ye Whores,
Slover Chops to your Stilts, lay open your Sores;
Beeds-Men tye your Tackling, haste, the Lour bring
To Litter the Cubs, and Bouse the King.
The tatter'd Regiment took the Alarm,
Some wanted a Leg, others an Arm:
The Queen was Cripple, with a broken Leg;
And thus she shew'd them, the Art to beg.
Some wanted a Leg, others an Arm:
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And thus she shew'd them, the Art to beg.
The Begging CANT.
Bless your Worships, throw us a Penny;Pitty the Wretches, poor and many;
Mind the Blind who cannot see;
Giv's but a Doyt, or Irish Babie:
Spare something to the Dumb and Lame,
All starving with a hungry Wame;
And he who sent you't guide you hame.
She canted till she got
The matter of a Groat,
Which she to Scrape did bring,
For he was own'd for King;
And merrily did sing.
The SONG.
Here in Peace and Love we dwell,Who'd be Nobles, prithee tell:
When the Beggars live so well.
Then Blyth, very Blyth, very Blyth, let us be,
King George needs a Million, so do not we:
Well Dance, and we'll Sing under the Hawthorn-Tree.
Just now it's been our Lot,
For to pick up a Groat,
We'll put it in the Pot,
And Merry, Merry, Merry, very Merry, let us be.
King George needs a Million, so do not we:
Well Dance, and we'll Sing under the Hawthorn-Tree.
Just now it's been our Lot,
For to pick up a Groat,
We'll put it in the Pot,
And Merry, Merry, Merry, very Merry, let us be.
| Streams from Helicon | |