Packington's Pound

Anonymous

My masters and friends and good people draw near
And look to your purses, for that I do say
And though little money in them do you bear
It cost more to get than to lose in a day
You oft have been told, both the young and the old
And bidden beware of the Cut-purse so bold
Then if you take heed not, free me from the curse
That both give you warning for and the Cut-purse
Youth, youth thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse

It hath been upbraided to men of my trade
That oftentimes we are the cause of this crime
Alack and for pity, why should it be said
As if they regarded or places or time
Examples have been of some that were seen
At Westminster Hall yea the pleaders between
Then why should the judges be free from this curse
More than my poor self is for cutting the purse
Youth, youth thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse

At Worster, tis known well and even in the Jale
A knight of good worship did there show his face
Against the poor sinners in zeal for to rail
And lost, ipso facto, his purse in the place
Nay once from the seat of judgment so great
A judge there did lose a fair purse of velvet
Oh Lord, for thy mercy how wicked or worse
Are those that so venture their necks for a purse!
Youth, youth thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse

The poor servant maid wears her purse in her placket
A place of quick feeling and yet you can take it
Nor is she aware that you have done the feat
Until she is going to pay for her meat
Then she cries and rages among her baggages
And swears at one thrust she hath lost all her wages
For she is ingaged herself to disburse
To make good the breach of the cruel Cut-purse
Youth, youth thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse

But now to my hearers this counsel I give
And pray friends, remember it long as you live
Bring out no more cash in purse, pocket or wallet
Thank one single penny to pay for the ballet
For Cut-purse doth shroud himself in a cloud
There's many a purse hath been lost in a crowd
For he's the most rogue that doth crowd up and curses
Who first cries, My masters, beware of your purses!'
Oh youth, thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse
Than live to be hanged for cutting a purse!

Canzoni più popolari di Carolyn Sampson

Altri artisti di Romantic