Table of First Lines to the Songs and Poems in Choice Drollery, 1656. (Now First Added.)
| page. | |
| A Maiden of the Pure Society | 44 |
| A story strange I will you tell | 31 |
| A Stranger coming to the town | 16 |
| And will this wicked world never prove good? | 40 |
| As I went to Totnam | 45 |
| Blacke eyes, in your dark orbs do lye | 81 |
| Cloris, now thou art fled away | 63 |
| Come, my White-head, let our Muses | 10 |
| Deare Love, let me this evening dye | 1 |
| Down lay the Shepheards Swain | 65 |
| Drink boyes, drink boyes, drink and doe not spare | 42 |
| Farre in the Forrest of Arden | 73 |
| Fire! Fire! O, how I burn | 97 |
| Fuller of wish, than hope, methinks it is | 62 |
| He that a Tinker, a Tinker, a Tinker will be | 52 |
| Hide, oh hide those lovely Browes | 53 |
| How happy’s that Prisoner that conquers, &c. | 93 |
| I keep my horse, I keep my W | 60 |
| I love thee for thy curled hair | 49 |
| I never did hold, all that glisters is gold | 85 |
| I tell you all, both great and small | 68 |
| Idol of our sex! Envy of thine own! | 55 |
| If at this time I am derided | 9 |
| In Celia a question did arise | 80 |
| In Eighty-eight, ere I was born | 38 |
| Let not, sweet saint, let not these eyes offend you | 92 |
| List, you Nobles, and attend | 20 |
| My Mother hath sold away her Cock | 43 |
| Never was humane soule so overgrown | 17 |
| No Gypsie nor no Blackamore | 88 |
| Nor Love, nor Fate dare I accuse | 4 |
| Oh fire, fire, fire, where? | 33 |
| On the twelfth day of December | 78 |
| One night the great Apollo, pleas’d with Ben | 5 |
| Shall I think, because some clouds | 15 |
| She’s not the fairest of her name | 99 |
| The Chandler grew neer his end | 72 |
| There is not halfe so warme a fire | 61 |
| This day inlarges every narrow mind | 48 |
| ’Tis late and cold, stir up the fire | 100 |
| ’Tis not how witty, nor how free | 98 |
| Trust no more a wanton Wh— | 90 |
| Uds bodykins, Chill work no more | 57 |
| We read of Kings, and Gods that kindly took | 83 |
| What ill luck had I, silly maid that I am | 84 |
| When first the magick of thine eye | 8 |
| When James in Scotland first began | 70 |
AN
ANTIDOTE
AGAINST
MELANCHOLY:
Made up in PILLS.
Compounded of Witty Ballads, Jovial
Songs, and Merry Catches.
These witty Poems though some time [they] may seem to halt on crutches,
Yet they’l all merrily please you for your Charge, which not much is.