His breeches cost him but a croune;
He held them sixpence all too deere,
Therefore he call'd the taylor loune.
He was a wight of high renowne,
And those but of a low degree;
Itt 's pride that putts the countrye doune,
Then take thine old cloake about thee.[406:2]
Take thy old Cloak about Thee.
A poore soule sat sighing under a sycamore tree;
Oh willow, willow, willow!