The BEGGAR'S Delight, As it was SUNG at the Theatre-Royal.  
 

COurtiers, Courtier, think it no harm,  
that silly poor Swains in Love should be;  
For Love lies hid in Rags all torn,  
as well as in Silks and Bravery:  
For the Beggar he loves his Lass as dear,  
as he that has thousands thousands, thousands,  
He that has thousand pounds a year.   

II.  
State and Title are pitiful things,  
a lower State more happy doth prove,  
Lords and Ladies, Princes and Kings,  
with the Beggar hath equal joys in Love;  
And my pretty brown Cloris upon the Hay,  
hath always as killing, kill, kill,  
Hath always as kill Charms as they.   

III.  
A Lord will purchase a Maidenhead,  
which perhaps, hath been lost some years before,  
A Beggar will pawn his Cloak and his Trade,  
content with Love, to lie and live poor:  
Our eager Embraces in Coal-Sheds,  
are always more pleasing, pleasing, pleasing,  
Then theirs that are dull in Downy▪   

IU.  
Our Cloris is free from Patches and Paint,  
complexion and Features sweetly agree,  
Perfections which Ladies often do want,  
is always entailed on our Pedigree:  
Sweet Cloris in her own careless Hair,  
is always more taking, taking, taking,  
Then Ladies that Towers and Pendents do wear.   

V.  
A Duchess may fail, created for sport,  
by using of Art, and changing of things,  
Tho' she were the Idol and Goddess o' th' Court,  
the joys & the pleasure of Don, Prince, or Kings:  
Yet Cloris in her Old Russet Gown,  
she's sound, she's sound, she's sound,  
And free from the Plague and Pox of the Town.   
FINIS.   

London, Printed for J. Dean; 1684.