Good Ale for my money.  
The good-fellows resolution of strong Ale,  
That cures his nose from looking pale.  
To the tune of, The country lass.  

 
 

BE merry my friends, and list a while  
Unto a merry jest,  
It may from you produce a smile,  
when you hear it expressed.  
Of a young man lately married,  
which was a boon good fellow,  
This song in's head he always carried,  
when drink had made him mellow,   

I cannot go home, nor I will not go home,  
its long of the oil of barley:  
I'll tarry all night for my delight,  
and go home in the morning early,   

No Tapster stout, or Vintner fine,  
quoth he shall ever get  
One groat out of this purse of mine  
to pay his Master's debt:  
Why should I deal with sharking rooks,  
that seek poor gulls to cozen,  
To give twelve pence for a quart of wine,  
of ale 'twill buy a dozen.   

'twill make me sing, I cannot &c.   

The old renowned Ipocrist  
and Raspie doth excel,  
But never any wine could yet  
my honour please to swell.  
The Rhenish wine or Muskadine,  
sweet Malmsie is too fulsome,  
No give me a cup of barley broth,  
for that is very wholesome,   

'twill make me sing, I cannot &c.   

Hot waters are to me as death,  
and soon the head oreturneth,  
And Nectar hath so strong a breath  
Canary when it burneth,  
It cures no pain but breaks the brain,  
and raps out oaths and curses,  
And makes men part with heavy heart,  
but light it makes their purses,   

I cannot go home, etc   

Some say Metheglin bears the name,  
with Perry and sweet cider  
'twill bring the body out of frame.  
and reach the belly wider:  
Which to prevent I am content  
with ale that's good and nappy.  
And when thereof I have enough.  
I think myself most happy.   

I cannot go home, &c.   

All sorts of men when they do meet  
both trade and occupation,  
With courtesy each other greet,  
and kind humiliation:  
A good coal fire is their desire,  
whereby to sit and parley,  
They'll drink their ale and tell a tale,  
and go home in the morning early.   

I cannot go home, &c.   

Your domineering swaggering blades,  
and cavaliers that flas●es,  
That throw the jugs against the walls,  
and break in pieces glasses,  
When Bacchus round cannot be found  
they will in merriment  
Drink ale and beer and cast of care,  
and sing with one consent.   

I cannot go home, &c.    

The second part.  
To the same tune,  
 
 

HEre honest ●ohn, to thee I'll drink,  
and so to Will and Thomas,  
None of this company I think,  
will this night part from us:  
While we are here we'll join for beer  
like lively lads together,  
We have a house over our heads,  
a fig for rainy weather.  
I canno● go home, nor will not go home,  
its long of the oil of barley,  
I stay all night for my delight.   

and go home in the morning early.   

Here's Smug the smith & Ned the Cook,  
and Frank the fine feltmaker.  
Here's Steven with his silver hook,  
and Wat the lusty baker:  
Here's Harry & Dick, with Greg & Nick,  
here's Timothy the Tailor,  
Here's honest ●it, ne'er spoke of yet,  
and George the jovial sailor.   

That cannot &c.   

we'll sit and bouse and merrily chat,  
and freely we will join  
For care near paid a pound of debt,  
nor shall pay none of mine:  
Here is but eighteen pence to pay,  
since every man is willing,  
Bring drink with all the speed you may,  
we'll make it up two shillings.   

We cannot &c.   

Let Father frown, and Mother chide,  
and uncle seek to find us,  
Here is good lap here will we bide  
we'll leave no drink behind us,  
A proverhe old I have heard told,  
by my dear dad and grandsire,  
He was hanged that left his drink behind  
therefore this is our answer,   

We cannot &c.   

James the joiner he hath paid,  
and Anthony the glover,  
Our hostess hath a pretty maid,  
I cannot choose but love her:  
Her pot she'll fill, with right good will,  
here's ale as brown as a berry,  
'twill make an old woman dance for joy,  
and an old man's heart full merry   

I cannot &c.   

'twill make a soldier domineer,  
and bravely draw his rapier,  
Su●●vertue doth remain in beer  
'twill make a Cripple caper:  
Women with men, will now and then  
sit round and drink a little,  
Tom tinker's wife on Friday night  
for drink did pawn her kettle,   

She could not come home, nor would not come home  
her belly began to rumble,  
She had no power to go nor stand,  
but about the street did tumble.   

Thus to conclude my verses rude,  
would some good fellows here  
Would join together pence a piece  
to buy the singer beer:  
I trust none of this company  
will be herewith offended,  
Therefore call for your jugs a piece  
and drink to him that penned it.    
Lawrence Price.  
Finis.   

Printed at London