The Lamentation of a Bad Market: OR, The Disbanded Souldier.
IN Red-coat Raggs attired,
I wander up and down,
Since Fate and Foes conspired,
thus to array me,
or betray me,
to the harsh censure of the Town;
My Buffe doth make me Boots, my Velvet-coat and Scarlet
Which us'd to do me credit, with many a
Sodom Harlot,
Have bid me all adieu most despicable Valvet:
Alas poor Souldier, whither wilt thou march?
I've been in
France and
Holland,
guided by my starrs,
I've been in
Spain and
Poland,
I've been in
Hungaria,
in
Greece and
Italy.
and served them in all their Wars;
Brittain these 18 years has known my desperate slaughter,
I've killed ten at one blow, even in a fit of laughter,
Cone home again and smil'd, and kiss'd my Landlords Daughter.
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
My valour so prevailed,
meeting with my Foes,
Which strongly me assailed;
Oh! strange I wondred,
they were a hundred,
yet I routed them with few blowes;
This Fauchion by my side, has kill'd more men Ile swear it,
Then
Ajax ever did, alas he ne'er came near it,
Yea more then
Priams Boy, or all that ere did hear it:
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
For King and Parliament,
I was a Praester
John,
Devout was my intent;
I haunted Meetings,
used zealous greetings,
crept full of Devotion;
Smect
[...]m
[...]s won me first, then holy
Nye prevail,
Then Captain
Kifin flops me with
John of
Leydons Tail,
Then
Fox and
Naylo
[...] bangs me with
Jacob Beamonds flail:
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
I did about this Nation,
hold forth my gifts and teach,
Maintained the tolleration;
the common story,
and Directory▪
I
Damnd with the word (
Preach)
Time was when all Trades f
[...]i
[...]ed men counterfeitly zealous,
Turn'd Whining Snievling Pr
[...]ters, or kept a country Ale-house,
Gat
handsom Wives turn'd Cuckolds howe're were very jealous:
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
The World doth know me well,
I ne're did peace desire,
Because I could not tell,
of what behaviour,
I should savour,
in a Field of Thundring fire;
When we had
murdered King, confounded Church and State,
Divided Parks
and Forests, Houses, Money, Plate,
We then did Peace desire to keep what we had gat:
Alas poor Souldier, whither wilt thou march?
Surplice was surplisage,
we Voted right or wrong,
Within that furious Age
of the Painted Glass,
oh Pictured Brass,
and Liturgie we made a Song.
Bishops and Bishops Lands were superstitious words,
Until in Souldiers hands, and so were Kings and Lords;
But in fashion now again in spight of all our Swords:
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
Some say I am forsaken
by the great men of these times,
And they're no whit mistaken,
it is my Fate
to be out of date▪
my Masters most are guilty of such crimes;
Like an old Almanack I now but represent,
How long since
Edge-hill fight, or the Rising was in
Kent.
Or since the dissolution of the first Long-Parliament.
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
Good
Sirs what shall I fancie,
amidst these gloomy dayes?
Shall I goe Court brown
Nancy,
in a Countrey Town,
they'l call me Clown,
If I sing them my Out-landish Playes;
Let me in inform their Nodle with my Heroick Spirit,
My Language and worth besides, transcend unto merit,
They'l not believe one word, what mortal flesh can bear it?
Alas poor Souldier, &c.
Into the Countrey places,
I resolve to goe,
Amongst those Sun burut Faces,
I'le goe to Plough,
or keep a Cow;
'tis that my Masters now again must do:
Souldiers ye see will be of each Religion,
They're but like Stars, which when the true Sun rise they're gon;
Ile to the Countrey goe, and there Ile serve Sir
John:
I, I, 'tis thither, and thither will I goe.
FINIS.
LONDON, Printed for Charles Gustavus, 1660.