On a Cold Chyne of Beef
Bring out the Old Chyne, the Cold Chyne to me,
And how Ile charge him come and see,
Brawn tusked, Brawn well sowst and fine,
With a precious cup of Muscadine:
Chorus.
How shall I sing, how shall I look,
In honour of the Master-Cook?
The Pig shall turn round and answer me,
Canst thou spare me a shoulder[?], a wy, a wy.
The Duck, Goose and Capon, good fellows all three
Shall dance thee an antick[,] so shall the turkey;
But O! the cold Chyne, the cold Chyne for me:
Chorus.
How shall I sing, how shall I look,
In honour of the Master-Cook?
With brewis Ile noynt thee from head to th’ heel,
Shal make thee run nimbler then the new oyld wheel[;]
With Pye-crust wee’l make thee
The eighth wise man to be;
But O! the cold Chyne, the cold Chyne for me:
Chorus.
How shall I sing, how shall I look,
In honour of the Master-Cook?
[p. 56.]