And rouse from my Couch,
Whereas I lay abiding.
And still doe cry, &c.
Now as a wandring Souldier,
(That has i' th' warres bin maymed
With the shot of a Gunne)
To Gallants I runne,
And begg, sir, helpe the lamed:
I am a poore old Souldier
And better times once viewed,