Classic Poem

Farewell, Rewards & Faeries ,
Good Houswives now may say;
For now foule Slutts in Daries
Doe fare as well as they;
And though they sweepe theyr Hearths no less
Then Maydes were wont to doe,
Yet who of late for Cleaneliness
Finds sixe-pence in her Shoe?

Lament, lament, old Abbies,
The Faries lost Command:
They did but change Priests Babies ,
But some have changd your Land;
And all your Children sprung from thence
Are now growne Puritanes:
Who live as Changelings ever since
For love of your Demaines.

At Morning & at Evening both
You merry were & glad,
So little Care of Sleepe or Sloth
These Prettie ladies had.
When Tom came home from labour,
Or Ciss to Milking rose,
Then merrily went theyre Tabor,
And nimbly went theyre Toes.

Wittness those Rings & Roundelayes
Of theirs, which yet remaine,
Were footed in Queene Maries dayes
On many a Grassy Playne;
But, since of late Elizabeth ,
And later James , came in,
They never daunc'd on any heath
As when the Time hath bin .

By which wee note the Faries
Were of the old Profession;
Theyre Songs were Ave Maryes ,
Theyre Daunces were Procession .
But now, alas, they all are dead,
Or gone beyond the Seas,
Or Farther for Religion fled,
Or elce they take theyre Ease.

A Tell-tale in theyre Company
They never could endure,
And whoe so kept not secretly
Theyre Mirth, was punisht sure.
It was a just & Christian Deed
To pinch such blacke & blew.
O, how the Common welth doth need
Such Justices as you!

Now they have left our Quarters
A Register they have,
Who looketh to theyre Charters,
A Man both Wise & Grave;
An hundred of theyre merry Prancks
By one that I could name
Are kept in Store, conn twenty Thanks
To William for the same.

I marvell who his Cloake would turne
When Puck had led him round,
Or where those Walking Fires would burne,
Where Cureton would be found;
How Broker would appeare to be,
For whom this Age doth mourne;
But that theyre Spiritts live in Thee,
In Thee, old William Chourne .

To William Chourne of Stafford Shire
Give Laud & Prayses due,
Who every Meale can mend your Cheare
With Tales both old & true.
To William all give Audience,
And pray yee for his Noddle,
For all the Faries Evidence
Were lost, if that were Addle.