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!