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DOWN-HALL: A BALLAD.
To the Tune of, King JOHN and the Abbot of
SING not old Jafon, who travel'd through Greece, To kifs the fair Maids, and poffefs the rich Fleece; Nor fing I Æneas, who, led by his mother,
Got rid of one Wife, and went far for another.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.
Nor him who through Afia and Europe did roam,
Than return to his farms, and converfe with old Pen.
Hang Homer and Virgil their meaning to feek,
But I fing of exploits that have lately been done
* Mr. Prior, and Mr. John Morley of Halstead.
Now ere they went out you may, rightly suppose How much they difcours'd both in prudence and profe; For, before this great journey was throughly concerted, Full often they met, and as often they parted.
And thus Matthew faid, Look you here, my friend John, I fairly have travel'd years thirty-and-one ; And, though I ftill carry'd my Sovereign's warrants, I only have gone upon other folks errands.
And now in this journey of life I would have A place where to bait, 'twixt the court and the grave; Where joyful to live, not unwilling to dieGadzooks! I have just fuch a place in my eye.
There are gardens fo ftately, and arbours fo thick, A portal of stone, and a fabrick of brick:
The matter next week fhall be all in your power; But the money, gadzooks! must be paid in an hour.
For things in this world muft by law be made certain: We both must repair unto Oliver Martin;
For he is a Lawyer of worthy renown
I'll bring you to fee, he must fix you at Down.
Quoth Matthew, I know, that, from Berwick to Dover, You've fold all our premiffes over and over: And now, if your buyers and fellers agree,
may throw all our acres into the South Sea.
But a word to the purpose: to-morrow, dear friend, We'll fee, what to-night you so highly commend.; And, if with a garden and house I am bleft, Let the Devil and Coning by go with the rest.
Then anfwer'd 'Squire Morley; Pray get a calafh, That in fummer may burn, and in winter may splash;
I love dirt and duft; and 'tis always my pleasure,
But Matthew thought better: for Matthew thought right,
And hired a chariot fo trim and fo tight,
That extremes both of winter and fummer might pass: For one window was canvass, the other was glass.
Draw up, quoth friend Matthew; pull down, quoth friend John,
We shall be both hotter and colder anon.
Thus, talking and fcolding, they forward did fpeed; And Ralpho pac'd by, under Newman the Swede.
Into an old inn did this equipage roll,
At a town they call Hodfon, the fign of the Bull,
Come here, my fweet Landlady, pray how d'ye do? Where is Cicily fo cleanly, and Prudence, and Sue? And where is the Widow that dwelt here below? And the Hoftler that fung about eight years ago?
And where is your Sifter, fo mild and so dear, Whofe voice to her Maids like a trumpet was clear? By my troth! fhe replies, you grow younger, I think: And pray, Sir, what wine does the gentleman drink?
Why now let me die, Sir, or live upon trust,
And Prue left a child for the parish to nurse;
Well, peace to her afhes! what fignifies grief?
For that matter, Sir, be you 'Squire, Knight, or Lord,
Of Mutton a delicate neck and a breaft
Shall fwim in the water in which they were dreft:
Then fupper was ferv'd, and the sheets they were laid;
Then up rofe thefe Heroes as brifk as the fun, And their horses, like his, were prepared to run. Now when in the morning Matt afk'd for the fcore, John kindly had paid it the evening before.
Their breakfast fo warm to be fure they did eat,
A custom in travelers mighty difcreet;
And thus with great friendship and glee they went on,
Call'd Down, down, hey derry down.
'But what did they talk of from morning till noon?
So to Harlow they came; and, hey! where are you all?
Well, Mafter, I hear you have bury'd your Wife.
Come this very inftant, take care to provide
O'Squire, to the grief of my heart I may fay,
Then Joan brought the Tea-pot, and Caleb the Toaft;
That the Harrisons both were forgot in the hafte.