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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A58192 Folly in print, or, A book of rymes Raymond, John, 17th cent. 1667 (1667) Wing R418; ESTC R5763 40,035 143

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FOLLY IN PRINT OR A Book of RYMES Whoever buyes this Book will say There 's so much Money thrown away The Author thinks you are to blame To buy a Book without a Name And to say truth it is so bad A worse is no where to be had London Printed in the year 1667. To the Reader Courteous Reader THE whole world imaginably is but one great market and all mankind in it are distinguish'd into buyers and sellers who either truck for or buy Commodities particularly in Books where for money or exchange we take our choice and in our own Election please our selves Mens judgments as their appetites are very different the Market's free to buy or cheapen who buyes upon the sellers word may be deceived who chooseth ill deceives himself I doe not promise for my Book nor say 't is good but here 's variety and each man of his own pallat is the certain judge it may please some to them 't is good by whom dislik'd to them as bad VVhen the Gazets are cry'd we buy in expectation of some thing new yet though the news be ne're so good in three days time'tis laid aside though we were pleased with our peny worth I cannot expect a better fortune in this composition 't is now expos'd to your censure If it meet with generous Patrons I am oblig'd to serve you agen and better from your incouragement Farewel ERRATA PAge 5 for Plunder r. Plunders p. 7. l. 21. f. when r. where p. 9. l. 10. r. if all black coats p. 11. l. 6. f. nad r. had p. 17. l. 20. f. scraple r. scruples p. 19. l. 24. r. indebted p. 30. l. in the Title 1. Ma●cus Aurelius l. 22. r. and as a stream p. 34. l. 29. f. antiquity r. antiquities p 40. l. 7. f. treasures r. treasuries p. 41. in the title r. since fortune thou art grown so p. 43. l. 29. r. one pictur'd would 〈◊〉 cut in p. 5. l. 6. read with a little thing for a certain p. 50. l. 7. r. Rabbet Rabbet Rabbet or p. 58. l. 9. f. the floock r. his flock l. 10. f. kidds r. kiddeys p. 66. l. 26. f. devil r. devils p. 74. l. 10. r. his pike shrinks in his hand p. 79. l. 1. dele to p. 92. l. 15. r. she nimbly whisks it about p 95. l. 2. r. Hopkins jiggs the soltheads l. 4. f. homily r. homely p. 102. l. 9. f. hornes r. horn p. 114. l. 18 f. those boors r. rebels Folly in Print OR A Book of Rhymes The Cotsal Sheapheards To the Tune of Amarillis told her Swain ALL ye that love or who pretends Come listen to my Sonnet Black-baggs or vizards who have friends Or English Teags or Bonnets See here our Sheapheardess and Swain How they make love on Cotsall Plain Bis. Amarillis why so coy Think'st thou that the winged Boy Can never overtake thee Bis. Colin no I flye not him But thou who wilt forsake me Bis. Dearest I forsake my Sheep And forget to eat or sleep To follow Amarillis And dying lye down at thy feet Since such thy cruel will is Treason makes a goodly show Black that 's cover'd ore with Snow The eye doth not discover I must have more assurance yet E're I become a Lover In extreamest winter cold I hunt Foxes from thy fould Nor will I marry Phillis But in thine abscence close mine eyes and call on Amarillis Yet thou didst the other day At our pastoralls in May Hear Coridon to jeere me Who said I was not yet so fair That Colin need to fear me Envy cannot make thee foul Nor fine words make fayrer fool Nor Clownes can change their natures ' I le dye to tell the world that you Exceed them all in features Colin live for I am thine Drive thy Flocks up unto mine I 'le yield to thy Imbraces And Chant thee pleasing Round delayes Do thou foot comely Paces Happy Collin fayrest Maid My grief and care thou hast allay'd With words so sweetly charming Now on this Banke thou shalt confess I fear no others harming Dearest Colin stay awhile The time with talke we will beguile Till Evening shall befriend us Wee 'l then take in that happiness Which love anon will send us Now Colin Amarillis now He did she did swear and vow They'd never part asunder Forsworne they part and meet agen But that 's no lovers wonder The English Seamans Fortune with a Dutch Ufro at the burning of Scelling To the Tune of Phillis though thy powerful Charms FAyre Maids who pass by give ear to my song So short and so sweet you 'l not think it long Come buy all my Ballads I have no more Rich hangings for walls or your Chamber door To 'th Sea brave English men apace The Prizes stay till you give chace One broad-side down their Colours fall Divide the purchase 'mongst you all Then each man to his mate shall say God send us such another day We need no more at Sea to Roame With Nan and Boss wee l fight at home Your Merchant Voyages are long The Seas are rough and Pirates strong And when y 'ave toyld for little pay One Frolick spends it in a day The Dutchmen are your Indies now And victory will crown your Brow Your Countrey shall your welcome sing The Bells within your Pockets ring Some few as happily are dead Who living lye in honours-bedd What City Town or Village can But boast that they had such a man Who kill'd ten Dutchmen ere he fell And thousand Canons rung his knell The swift rebounding Ecchoes fly To tell the world 't is I 't is I. Those who before had names unknown Are now proclaimed by Trumpets blown Great Generalls and men of fame Are fellow Actors in this game How bravely have you chose to dye Remembred in such company Whil'st others are in surfets drown'd And dye forgotten ye are crown'd But now the storm and Scheling fire A true relation doth require The landing fight and bold advance The Souldiers wish ' Thad been in France But wine and Feathers or Kich-chose Can never make amends for blowes Ye must have plunders rich and prize To dazle the beholders eyes The Newes-books tells us of the fact How Holmes and others there did act Of Bibles Knives and silver Spoons Of Carpets wrought in Turkish moons Of Pewter Brass and such like stuff To frait the Fleet there was enough But I remember must my friend To whom this Ballad I commend His Father 'mongst the Cavaliers Had payd for jealousies and fears This son the yongest was of three His fortune small must go to Sea Where he hath had a lucky hitt Through courage added to his witt And brought a fire to warm his bedd From Schelling a Dutch-Maydenhead A Maid amongst the fairest faire Black-eye and slender Debonaire And by Dewitt her uncle sent To see her Aunt in Complement Who when the English landed there Surpriz'd with such a sudden fear Gave all her Jewels to her neece