The countryman's lamentation for the death of his cow  
A Country Swain of little wit one day,  
Did kill his Cow because she went astray;  
What's that to I or you, she was his own,  
But now the Ass for his Cow doth moan:  
Most pincously methink he cries in vain,  
For now his Cow, free from hunger, and pain:  
What ails the fool to make so great o stir,  
She cannot come to him, he may to her.  
To a pleasant Country Tune, called, Colly my Cow.  
 

LIttle Tom Dogget,  
what dost thou mean,  
To kill thy poor Colly,  
now she's so lean:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly;  
Colly my Cow;  
For Colly will give me  
no more milk now.  
Pruh high, pruh ho;  
Pruh high, pruh ho,  
Pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh,  
Tal val daw,    

I had better have kept her,  
till fatter she had been,  
For now I confess  
she's a little too lean:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.    

First in comes the Tanner,  
with his Sword by his side;  
And he bids me five Shillings,  
for my Cows hide:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.    

Then in comes the Tallow-chandler,  
whose brains were but shallow,  
And he bids me two and sixpence,  
for my Cow's Tallow:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly,  
Colly my Cow,  
For Colly will give me  
no more milk now:  
Pruh high, pruh ho,  
Pruh high, and pruh ho,  
Sing, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh pruh,  
Tal dal daw.    

Follow your Ambassador  
Cookoow   

THen in comes the Huntsman,  
so early in the morn,  
He bid me a Penny  
for my Cow's horn:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly,  
Colly my Cow:  
For Colly will give me  
no more milk now:  
Pruh high, pruh ho,  
Pruh high, and pruh ho,  
Sing, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, pruh, Pruh  
Tal dal daw.    

Then in comes the Tripe-woman,  
so fine and so neat,  
She bid me three-halfe-pences  
for my Cow's feet:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.    

Then in comes the Butcher,  
that nimble, tongued youth:  
Who said she was Carrion,  
but he spoke not the truth:  

Sing, O poor Colly, etc.    

This Cow had a skin,  
was as soft as the silk,  
And three times a day,  
my poor Cow would give milk:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.    

She every year,  
a sine Calf did me bring,  
Which fetched me a pound,  
for it came in the Spring:  
Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.   

But now I have killed her,  
I can't her recall:  
I will sell my poor Colly,  
Hide, Horns, and all:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.    

The Butcher shall have her,  
though he gives but a pound:  
And he knows in his heart,  
that my Colly was sound:  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.,    

And when he has bought her,  
let him sell all together,  
The flesh for to eat,  
and the hide for Leather.  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.,    

Some say i'm a Cuckold,  
but i'll swear I am none,  
For how can it be,  
now my horns are gone.  

Sing, Oh poor Colly, etc.,    
FINIS.   

Printed for C. Passenger, at the seven stars in the new Buildings, on London-bridge.