Table of First Lines
To the Songs and Poems in
Choice Drollery, 1656.
(Now first added.)
| page. | |
| A Maiden of the Pure Society | [44] |
| A story strange I will you tell | [31] |
| A Stranger coming to the town | [16] |
| And will this wicked world never prove good? | [40] |
| As I went to Totnam | [45] |
| Blacke eyes, in your dark orbs do lye | [81] |
| Cloris, now thou art fled away | [63] |
| Come, my White-head, let our Muses | [10] |
| Deare Love, let me this evening dye | [1] |
| Down lay the Shepheards Swain | [65] |
| Drink boyes, drink boyes, drink and doe not spare | [42] |
| Farre in the Forrest of Arden | [73] |
| Fire! Fire! O, how I burn | [97] |
| Fuller of wish, than hope, methinks it is | [62] |
| He that a Tinker, a Tinker, a Tinker will be | [52] |
| Hide, oh hide those lovely Browes | [53] |
| How happy’s that Prisoner that conquers, &c. | [93] |
| I keep my horse, I keep my W | [60] |
| I love thee for thy curled hair | [49] |
| I never did hold, all that glisters is gold | [85] |
| I tell you all, both great and small | [68] |
| Idol of our sex! Envy of thine own! | [55] |
| If at this time I am derided | [9] |
| In Celia a question did arise | [80] |
| In Eighty-eight, ere I was born | [38] |
| Let not, sweet saint, let not these eyes offend you | [92] |
| List, you Nobles, and attend | [20] |
| My Mother hath sold away her Cock | [43] |
| Never was humane soule so overgrown | [17] |
| No Gypsie nor no Blackamore | [88] |
| Nor Love, nor Fate dare I accuse | [4] |
| Oh fire, fire, fire, where? | [33] |
| On the twelfth day of December | [78] |
| One night the great Apollo, pleas’d with Ben | [5] |
| Shall I think, because some clouds | [15] |
| She’s not the fairest of her name | [99] |
| The Chandler grew neer his end | [72] |
| There is not halfe so warme a fire | [61] |
| This day inlarges every narrow mind | [48] |
| ’Tis late and cold, stir up the fire | [100] |
| ’Tis not how witty, nor how free | [98] |
| Trust no more a wanton Wh— | [90] |
| Uds bodykins, Chill work no more | [57] |
| We read of Kings, and Gods that kindly took | [83] |
| What ill luck had I, silly maid that I am | [84] |
| When first the magick of thine eye | [8] |
| When James in Scotland first began | [70] |
AN
ANTIDOTE
AGAINST
MELANCHOLY:
Made up in PILLS.
Compounded of Witty Ballads, Jovial
Songs, and Merry Catches.
These witty Poems though some time [they] may seem to halt on crutches,