Christmas Lamentation, For the loss of his Acquaintance, showing how he is forced to leave the Country, and come to London. To the tune of, Now the spring is come.  
 

CHristmas is my name, far have I gone,  
Have I gone, have I gone, have I gone,  
without regard.  
Whereas great men by flocks there be flown,  
There be flown, there be flown, there be flown,  
to London-ward.  
Where they in pomp and pleasure do waste,  
That which Christmas was wont to feast,  
Welladay.  
Houses where music was wont for to ring,  
Nothing but Bats and Owlets do sing,  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where should I stay.   

Christmas beef and bread, is turned into stones,  
Into stones, into stones, into stones,  
and silken rags.  
And Lady money sleeps, and makes moans,  
And makes moans, and makes moans, and, etc.  
in Miser's Bags.  
Houses where pleasures once did abound,  
Nought but a Dog and a Shepherd is found,  
Welladay.  
Places where Christmas Revels did keep,  
Is now become habitations for sheep  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where should I stay.   

Pan the Shepeards' god doth deface,  
Doth deface, doth deface, doth deface,  
Lady Ceres' crown.  
And tillage that both go to decay,  
To decay, to decay, to decay,  
in every Town.  
Landlords their rents so highly enhance,  
That Pierce the Ploughman, bare foot may dance,  
Welladay.  
And Farmers that Christmas would entertain,  
Have scarce where with themselves to maintain,  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where should I stay.   

Come to the Country man, he will protest,  
Will protest, will protest, will protest,  
and of Bull Beef lost.  
And for the Citizen he is so hot,  
Is so hot, is so hot, is so hot,  
he will burn the roast.  
The Courtier he good deeds will not scorn,  
Nor will he see poor Christmas forlorn,  
Welladay.  
Since none of these good deeds will do,  
Christmas had best turn Courtier too,  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where should I stay.    

The second part. To the same Tune.  
 

PRide and luxury they do devour,  
Do devour, do devour, do devour,  
housekeeping quite,  
And beggary that doth beget,  
Doth beget, doth beget, doth beget,  
in many a Knight.  
Madam forsooth in her Coach she must wheell,  
Although she wear her hose out at heel,  
Welladay.  
And on her back wear that for a weed,  
Which me and all my fellows would feed,  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where should I stay.   

Since pride that came up with yellow starch,  
Yellow starch, yellow starch, yellow starch,  
poor folks do want.  
And nothing the rich men will to them give,  
To them give, to them give, to them give,  
but do them taunt.  
For charity from the Country is fled,  
And in her place hath left nought but need,  
Welladay.  
And Corn is grown to so high a price,  
It makes poor men cry with weeping eyes,  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where should I stay.   

Briefly for to end, here I do find,  
I do find, I do find, I do find,  
so great vacation,  
That most great houses seem to attain  
To attain, to attain, to attain.  
a strong purgation.  
Where purging pills, such effects they have showed,  
That forth of doors their owners have spewed,  
Welladay.  
And where as Christmas comes by and calls,  
Nought but solitary and naked walls,  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
Welladay.  
where shall I stay.   

Phelomes' cottage was turned into gold,  
Into gold, into gold, into gold,  
for harboring jove,  
Rich men their houses for to keep,  
For to keep for to keep, for to keep,  
might their greatness move.  
But in the City they say they do live,  
Where gold by handfuls away they do give,  
I'll away.  
And thither therefore I purpose to pass,  
Hoping at London to find the golden Ass,  
I'll away.  
I'll away.  
I'll away.  
for here's no stay.    

Printed at London for F. C. dwelling in the Old-Bayly.