Upon a Summers DayThe Garland

= 116

86

Souldier:My dearest deare adue, since that I needs must goemy fortunes to pursue against some Forraine FoeBeing that it is so, I pray thee patient beand doe no kilt thy Coat, to goe along with mePegge:Alas my dearest heart, if that thou leave me hereDeath kills me with his dart, as plainly may appearFor sorrow griefe and smart will quickly make me dyeTherefore lie kilt my Coat, and goe along with thee−−Pepys, Ballads, I,296

Blew Cap

= 110

86

The Night Peece

= 100

86

Boateman

= 95

86

Ye gales that gently wave the seaAnd please the canny Boat−manBear me frae hence, or bring to meMy brave, my bonny Scot−manIn haly bands we join’d our handsYet may this not discoverWhile parents rate a large estateBefore a faithfu’ lover

The Begger Boy

= 90Am Dm Am B� Dm C F Am

86

Am Dm Am B� Dm Gm Dm Am

F C B� F C F C

F C B� F Gm Dm Am

From ancient pedigree, by due descentI well can derive my generationThroughout all Christendome, and also KentMy calling is known both in terme and vacationMy parents old taught me to be boldIle never be daunted, whatever is spokenWhere e’re I come, my custome I holdAnd cry, Good your worship, bestow one token!−−Roxburghe Ballads

Parsons farewell

= 200 1 2

1 2

Bobbing Joe

= 110

86

The New Exchange

= 100

86

I’ll go no more to the New Exchange, there is no room at allIt is so throng’d and crowded by the gallants of WhitehallBut I’ll go to the Old Exchange, where old things are in fashionFor now the Kew’s become the shop of this blessed ReformationCome, my new Courtiers, what d’ye lack? Good consciences? I you doHere’s long and wide, the only wear, the straight will trouble you

The Whish

= 100

86

StingoThe Oyle of Barly

Cold and Raw

= 110

86

Be merry, my friends, and list a whileUnto a merry jestIt mayfrom you produce a smileWhen you heare it exprestOf a young manlately marriedWhich was a boone goode fellowThis song in’s headhe alwaies carriedWhen drink made him mellowI cannot go home,nor will I go homeIt’s long of the oyle of BarlyI’le tarry allnight for my delightAnd go home in the morning early−−Humour,Wit and Satire (1647)

The Wherligig

= 110

86

Picking of Sticks

= 120

86

The Old Mole

= 120

86

Grimstock

= 95

86

Wooddicock

= 110 1 2

86

1 2

Greenwood

= 110

86

The Saraband

= 110

86

Hit and misse

= 100

86

Confesse, his tuneThe Court Lady

= 105

86

Mage on a Cree

= 120

86

A Health to Betty

= 110

86

Millisons Jegge

= 110

86

The Spanish Jeepsie

= 110

86

Lady Spellor

= 110

86

Kemps Jegg

= 110

86

The Cherping of the Larke

= 120

If all the World were Paper

= 110

86

Adsons Saraband

= 110

86

Nonesuch

= 120

Daphne

= 100 1 2

86

When Daphne from fair Phoebus did flyThe west wind most sweetly did blow in her faceHer silken scarf scarce shadowed her eyesThe God cried, O pity! and held her in chaceStay, Nymph, stay, Nymph, cries Apollo, tarry and turn thee, Sweet Nymph, stayLion nor Tiger doth thee follow, turn thy fair eyes, and look this wayO turn, O pretty sweet, and let our red lips meetO pity me, Daphne, pity me,&c.−−Chappell

The merry merry Milke Maids

= 120

86

Upon the first of May, with garlands fresh and gayWith mirth and music sweet, for such a season meetThey pass their time awayThey dance away sorrow, and all the day thorowTheir legs do never failThey nimbly their feet to plyAnd bravely try the victoryIn honour o’ th’ milking pail, in honour ...−−Chappell

Mill−field

= 110

86

The fine Companion

= 110

86

1 2

Skellemesago

= 110

86

Cast a Bell

= 180

The Spanyard

= 100

86

Rose is white and Rose is red

= 110

86

Have at thy Coat old woman

= 180

Drive the cold winter away

= 110

86

The Gun

= 110

86

Peppers Black

= 100

86

The Maid peept out at the windowThe Frier in the Well

= 110

86

As I lay musing all alone, a merry tale I thought uponNow listen a while and I will you tellOf a fryar that lov’d a bonny lass wellHe came to her when she was going to bedDesiring to have her maidenheadBut she denied his desireSaying that she did fear hellfireTush tush, quoth the fryer, thou need’s notIf thou wert in hell I could sing thee outWhy then, quoth the maid, thou shalt have thy requestThe fryer was as glad as a fox in his nest ...

Halfe Hannikin

= 110

86

Lord of Carnarvans Jegg

= 210 1 2

Irish Trot

= 180

Faine I wouldThe King’s Complaint

Parthenia

= 90

86

Faine I would, if I couldBy any means obteineLeave of my bestMasters to sit with them againeBut my blest ParlimentWill never give consentThey say tis such a thingeFor the worst of them’s a KingeWee will rule stillIn spight of CavalieresO brave house of CommonsO brave house of PeeresReligion you have pull’d downeAnd soe you have the crowneMy laws & Kingdome tooI think the Devill’s in youElse you’ll not endureSuch a constant floodAll of childrens tearesAnd theire dead Fathers blood ...

Once I loved a Maiden faire

= 150

The Irish LadyAnniseed−water Robin

= 100 1 2

86

All a Mode de France

= 110

Me have of late been in EnglandVere me have seen much sportDe raising of de ParliamentHave quite pull’d down de CourtDe King and Queen dey seperateAnd rule in ignorancePray judge yeGentlemen, if disBe a la mode de France

My Lady Cullen

= 120

The Bath

= 120

Goddesses

= 120

Jog on

= 110

86

Hearts Ease

= 100 1 2

86

Misogonus: Dering:Singe care away with sport & playe A cooper I am, and have beenPasttime is all our pleasure long, and hooping is my tradeYf well we fare, for nought we care And married man am I to as pretty aIn mearth our constant treasure ... wench as ever God hath made

The HealthThe Merry Wasel

= 180

Come, faith, since I’m partingW:And that God knows whenW:Thewalls of sweet Wickham I shall see againW:Let’s e’en have a frolic,and drink like tall menW:Till heads with healths go roundW:Tillheads with healths go round

Jack Pudding

= 110

86

Prince Ruperts March

= 140

ArgeersThe Wedding Night

= 230

Dissembling Love

= 90

86

The London GentlewomanThe Hemp−Dresser

= 110

86

Lavena

= 120

86

Mayden Lane

= 140

Jack a Lent

= 150

Chirping of the Nightingale

= 110

86

A Souldiers life

= 110

86

Saint Martins

= 140

1 2

Cuckolds all a row

= 110 1 2

86

Come bachelors and married men, and listen to my songAnd I will shew you plainly then, the injury and wrongThat constantly I do sustain through my unhappy lifeThe which does put me to great pain, by my unquiet wife

Petticoat wag

= 110

86

Pauls Steeple

= 140

Rufty tufty

= 180 1 2

All in a Garden green

= 120

SedaunyDargason

= 120

86

Chappell quotes the first of 16 verses set to this tune in the 17th century:The Shrop−shire Wakes, or hey for Christmas, being thedelightful sports of most countries, to the tune of Dargason.

Come Robin, Ralph, and little HarryAnd merry Thomas to our greenWhere we shall meet with Bridget and SaryAnd the finest girls that e’er were seenThen hey for Christmas a once yearWhen we have cakes, with ale and beerFor at Christmas every dayYoung men and maids may dance away

The Punks Delight

= 120

44

Aye meThe Simphony

= 200

BroomeThe bonny bonny Broome

= 200

44

The Milke−Mayds Bobb

= 110

86

An Old man is a Bed full of bones

= 110

86

Newcastle

= 200

44

1 2

Cherily and merrily

= 90

86

The Countrey Coll

= 110

86

Saturday night and Sunday morn

= 110

86

Dull Sir John

= 120

86

Hockley in the hole

= 100 1 2

86

1 2

New Boe peep

= 110

86

The Fryar and the Nun

= 140

ChestnutDoves Figary

= 180

Welcome to town, Tom Dove, Tom Dove,The merriest man aliveThy company stil we love, we love,God grant thee well to thriveAll never will depart from theeFor better or worse, my joyFor thou shalt still have our good willGod’s blessing on my sweet boy

Pauls Wharfe

= 100

86

Stanes Morris

= 140

Tom Tinker

= 100

86

Kettle Drum

= 180

Mundesse

= 140

1 2

1 2

1 2

Hide Parke

= 110

86

Lady lye neare me

= 100

86

Lulle me beyond thee

= 100

86

The Glory of the West

= 160

Jenny pluck Pears

= 120

86

= 100

43

Gathering Peascods

= 180 1 2

1 2

1 2

Up Tailes all

= 140

New New Nothing

= 140

Scotch CapEdinburgh Castle

= 110 1 2

86

Step Stately

= 100

86

Shepheards HolydayLabour in Vaine

= 100

86

1 2

1 2

Fie upon love! fond love! false love!Great are the torments that lovers endureIt is a snare − brings care − bones bareNone can a remedy for it procureOf all the afflictions that are incidentTo us while we march under Time’s regimentThere’s nothing to man brings such discontentAs love unbeloved againeIt breaketh our sleep, it distracteth the witIt make use doe things that for men are unfitIf I may but give a true censure on itIt shall be call’d "Labour in vaine".

Row well ye Marriners

= 110

86

Graies Inne Maske

= 150

Graies Inne Maske

= 120

= 110

86

The Slip

= 130