A light hearts A jewel. Or, 
The honest good blade who a free heart doth carry,  
And cares for nothing but to haue's own vagary.   
To the tune of jacke Puddings vagary.  

 

ALL you that merry lives do lead,  
although your means been little,  
That seldom are o'reseene in bread,  
nor take much thought for victual:  
Attend while I'll exemplify,  
the mind that I do carry,  
I take delight both morn and night,  

to have mine own vagary.    

Though fortune have not lent me wealth  
as she hath done to many,  
Yet while I liberty and health,  
I'll been as blithe as any:  
I'll bear an honest upright heart,  
there's none shall prove contrary,  
Yet now and then Abroad I'll start,  

and have mine own vagary.    

No base profession will I choose,  
thereby to get my living,  
No Kent-street maunding will I use,  
my minds more bend to giving:  
I will not say I'm this and that,  
with bug Bear boasts to scare ye,  
Let Coxcombs prate they know not what,  

I'll have mine own vagary.    

I am no Gravesend Travailour,  
No teller of strange stories,  
No forger of Corantoes nor,  
a man that evermore is  
Extolling of his own deserts,  
and with proud words will dare ye,  
Let such as these are act their parts,  

I'll have mine own vagary.    

I am no haunter of the Plays,  
to pick poor people's purses,  
Nor one that every word he says,  
doth coin new oaths and curses:  
If I do run on Tapster's scores,  
to pay them I am wary,  
Let others spend their means on whoors,  

I love mine own vagary.    

I am no blade nor Roaring Boy,  
aboading in they City,  
No Whisk, no Lift nor no Decoy,  
nor one that asks for pity:  
My educations not the best,  
yet such a heart I carry,  
That what my humour can't digest,  

it fits not my vagary.    

No City Shuffler scarce of age,  
to have what fate hath left me,  
No haire-braind Ass that's full of rage,  
reason hath not bereft me:  
No great Bum-Bayly that may fright,  
my fearful adversary,  
But one that love's, and takes delight,  

to have his own vagary.    

No Usurer that hordes up trash,  
nor yet a noted Spender,  
No borrowing Shark that never pays,  
but to a Friend a Lender:  
No Petyfog, nor Common-bayle,  
For no such fellows care I,  
In honest sort I'll never fail,  

to have mine own vagary.     

The second part,  
To the same tune.  
 
 

NO Bowling Alley Rook am I,  
that sweareth all by dam me,  
By such I'll not o'er reached been,  
In this their's none can blame me:  
No swaggering Pimp that champion is,  
to Dole, to Kate, and Sary,  
I hate such slavish Offices,  

those fit not my vagary.    

Those painful Swains that on the green,  
do daily take their pleasure,  
The pleasantest life that can been seen,  
though not so stored with treasure:  
When Husbandmen and Shepherd Swains,  
with Lasses of the Dary,  
Do sportingly trip o'er the Plains,  

O that fits my vagary.    

I care not to wear Gallant rags,  
and own the Tailor for them,  
I care not for those vaunting brags,  
I ever did abhor them:  
What to the world I seem to been,  
no man shall prove contrary,  
My Suits shall suit to my degree,  

O that fits my vagary.    

I care not for those scar Crow blades,  
whose valour lies in speeches,  
That in discourse of manhood wades,  
ofttimes above their reaches:  
If I have not a mind to fight,  
I'll urge no adversary.  
When word and deed both jump aright,  

O that fits my vagary.    

I care not for the Brokers Book,  
my names not there inrouled,  
I nothing owe, therefore I look,  
by none to be controlled:  
I do not fear the Sergeant's Mace,  
walk by the Counter dare I,  
And look a Bailiff in the face,  

O this is my vagary.    

I care not much in company,  
to spend what is allotted,  
I'll drink but for sufficiency,  
I'll never been besotted:  
When I do feel my spirits dull,  
a cup of old Canary  
Will fill my heart with couragefull,  

and this is my vagary.    

I care not for sad malcontent,  
that is the bane of nature,  
I love good honest merriment,  
and I'll despise no creature:  
That's for my use and sustinence,  
and still I will been wary,  
Lest I exceed in my expense,  

that fits not my vagary.    

Still will I have an honest care,  
that none lies wronged by me,  
I'll not build Castles in the air,  
whoever lists to try me,  
Shall find in all that's promised here,  
not any word contrary,  
I envious censure do not fear,  

I'll have mine own vagary.      

Printed at London for I. Wright, dwelling in Gilt-spur street.